Halla's Choice
by Auset's Tears
Summary: Forbidden love in the Westfold... Halla's new marriage to a warrior of Rohan leaves her cold. Fortunately, she finds an exotic and dangerous enemy injured in the forest near her land...
1. Chapter 1

Halla sat at the long wooden banquet table with a garland of white and blue flowers in her hair. Her families old and new surrounded her, and her new husband Finnan sat beside her, stiff in his fine green cloak. He was neither handsome nor ugly, the sort of face you'd not pick out in a crowd, with limpid dark blonde locks and a soft, receding chin. But he was, in Halla's village, a hero. He'd answered King Theoden's call and fought beside young King Eomer and Pelenor Fields, gone on to the Black Gate as well. Halla's friends assured her that she should be happy. They reminded her that her parents were dead and her aunt and uncle were simple farmers, with only twenty horses, and she should be honored at the match. They did not mention that the wedding would join Finnan's land with her own inheritance, good fertile land near the River Isen which now that the War was over would no longer be too dangerous to farm, and thus worth something suddenly again, just as she had to give control of it away. No one suggested Finnan's family had planned the marriage with that goal—and no other—in mind.

"A toast to the bride and groom!" Finnan's father declared, and Halla's new husband raised his fancy goblet with hardly a thought. "May they have many strong sons!"

Halla blushed to the tips of her ears, and Finnan grit his jaw. The wedding party laughed into their cups of mead and ale, making randy jokes about the young couple. But who could fail to be in a good mood? The War was won and law restored. Burnt out wattle and daub houses were rebuilt and mares covered to make new foals, replacing those slaughtered or stolen by the Enemy. Finnan had a good herd, near three hundred now. Halla closed her eyes, wondering if she was little more than a brood mare to this remote new husband who had not even proposed himself, but sent his father to Halla's uncle, at which time the two old men sat in the shade and drew up land deeds to be filed in Edoras.

Well, so be it, she was a woman now, a woman of place and position at last. Halla, two weeks past her sixteenth birthday, told herself that her mid-summer marriage to the taciturn twenty-five year old warrior was the best she could hope for. Finnan had fine manners and seemed quiet and thoughtful, and he had given her a beautiful grey colt to train up herself, along with a golden torque necklace. She would live in a wide house of good grey stone with a bedroom and an undercroft, and her bread would come from a large kitchen, built close enough to the house to keep the bread warm for her breakfast, but not so close as to bring a danger from fire. There would even be a serving woman and a boy to do farm chores. _I've no reason to feel sour about it,_ she told herself firmly.

When the feast was over, Halla's aunt and friends crowded round her, and the men around Finnan. They sang songs and the little girls of the village threw daisies and mountain laurel along the path to Halla and Finnan's new house. Finnan took a cup of mead in the wide hall, where swords were mounted on the wall, and Halla and the women climbed the narrow wooden stairs to the second story. The bedroom ran the length of the hall and had southern widows. Wide oak floor boards were covered with fresh rushes and sweet strewing herbs. Laughing and chattering, Halla's young friends helped her change into a delicately embroidered linen nightgown. The maids were blushing and the married young women laughing and making bold jokes. Aunt Hilda tied the neck of the nightgown with a cornflower blue ribbon. Her cousin Freyda brushed her long pale hair. Internally Halla was panicked about what was to come, but when Aunt Hilda asked if she had any last questions, Halla shook her head firmly. Having grown up with livestock, she had no confusions about where babies came from. She didn't want to tell them that the idea of someone touching her so intimately was quite horrifying. She hoped to get through the whole business without much of a fuss.

"You look lovely," Hilda assured her, kissing her on both cheeks. The women sang and laughed their way out the door and down the stairs, leaving Halla alone in her new bedchamber. She walked around the room, tentatively examining her new surroundings. A fire was burning in the polished bronze grate in the fireplace. The bed was a great oak four poster, with thick felt curtains in a deep forest green. She touched the white coverlet, her fingers sinking into goose-down. An ornately carved trunk stood at the foot of the bed. Halla lifted the trunk, peeking in at linen sheets and spare wool blankets. The trunk had been lined with dried lavender. Outside the window, a bird sang in the summer twilight.

She dropped the lid, hearing bootsteps on the stairs. Halla sat down on the bed, trying to achieve a poised balance of good posture and relaxed calm.

Finnan appeared in the door, and Halla gave him a small smile that she hoped would seem inviting, but not wanton. She was chilled a little by his hard stare. It was, Halla realized, the first time he'd looked at her straight on, and his eyes were cold and grim.

He crossed the threshold briskly, unclipped his broach, and dropped his cloak on the chair by the fireplace. He kicked his boots off, dropping clumps of caked mud on the floor. He snuffed the candles out, and approached the bed in a business-like manner. Halla drew her breath and climbed under the soft white coverlet. She lay carefully, spreading her hair out over the pillows in a way she hoped looked fetching.

Finnan climbed into bed beside her. They lay in perfect silence, a silence that hummed with nervous energy.

Suddenly her new husband reared over her, pulling up her nightgown, squeezing her small breast clumsily. Halla grit her teeth and steeled herself. _Love will come later,_ she thought. That's what Hilda had told her. She'd get through this, and wash up, and go to sleep as if it were any other day. In the morning she'd bring him bread and sweet cream butter and small ale, and bid him a good day as a proper wife should. Then she'd see to the chores, and by mid-morning go to ride her new horse. She'd visit her friends and they would laugh at her. She'd tell them it wasn't as painful as they'd said it was.

Only, there was no pain coming. Finnan was beavy and awkward between her willingly parted thighs, and all she felt was his hand beating against his belly. Halla had a morbid curiosity to look down, but she kept her eyes on the tester above the wide bed. Something didn't seem right, and she had a sinking feeling what it was. Finnan gave out a hard gasp of frustration and flipped onto his back. He turned away from her, lying to face the fire. She didn't hear another sound from him.

Halla was in shock. She'd been ready for anything, no matter how awkward, she'd heard all types of stories… but _this!_

She wanted to melt into the soft featherbed. He didn't like her. Didn't like her, didn't want her. She'd known men who'd hump anything on foot or hoof, so long as it was _female_, but this young Rider couldn't raise his spear for her! She would have sniffed herself for bad smells, but she didn't dare breathe, and besides she'd bathed in lavender water just before the wedding feast. What if he thought her repulsive? What if he could never do it? What if she never had children, never had sons to keep up the herd and the farm, and she grew old alone and abandoned—

Halla felt hot tears of shame in her eyes. She blinked in the gathering darkness, desperate to get a hold on herself. In the morning they'd all stare at her for signs of a change, that great movement to adulthood that every woman made… What could she possibly tell them? She was humiliated!

Halla felt that he was still awake. It was almost like he didn't breathe as well. She didn't want him to know how hurt she was, as if there as some way to pretend that everything had gone as it ought. Halla closed her eyes and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, but just beneath the surface, she was beyond devastated, certain that if she repulsed him as a bride, she couldn't fail to repulse him later on. What sort of life could she have now?

Unable to sleep and unable to face her husband, Halla slipped out of bed before dawn. The cold air chilled her as she quickly dressed in a good blue work dress and plain brown cloak, and tied on a white apron. She washed up, brushed and braided her hair into a long single plait, trying not to linger before her polished bronze mirror in a painful effort to find out what was wrong with her narrow, regular face. She'd always been called a pretty maid: was it possible folks kept something from her about her appearance, something that was wrong? Something that would repulse a _warrior_?

Halla laced up her leather boots and hustled down the stairs. She passed by the guests from out of the village—some of Finnan's battle brothers and relations from far away—who slept on the floor of the hall. She stepped out into the grey dawn, and took a great breath of crisp morning air. A fog clung to the high, sweet meadows filled with flowers. Horses stood slumbering or moving slowly through the field, grazing the dew-filled grass. Mountains rose in the horizon, smoky-blue against a pale grey sky, some still capped with white. The air smelled like sweet clover and pine from the forests at the feet of the mountains. Some of the trees were damaged and rockslides were common now that the rains were coming strong, but the War was over, and no summer had ever seemed so sweet.

"It's not so bad," Halla said to herself. "Three _hundred_ horses! And a colt of my own, from a mighty sire and a true line."

"Up early, Mistress!"

Halla jumped out of her boots. The serving woman, Blythe, stepped beside her with a bucket and a smile. She was a plump woman in her middle-years, with dark blonde hair tied back under a plain white kerchief.

"Sorry to startle you, ma'am. Beautiful morning, eh?"

"Beautiful," Halla repeated. "I'd like to see the barn, and the kitchens."

"Glad to show you! I've just come here myself, a few days ago. But I know it well enough now. A goodly place. I'm going to gather the eggs for Master's breakfast. He left word last night he'll be leaving early this morning, but I 'spect you know that."

"Oh—yes, I remember now. I'll come with you, Blythe, if that's all right."

"You're the Mistress here!" Blythe said cheerily.

Halla walked along with Blythe, swallowing her mortification. So he meant to leave her right away! Would he even tell her where he was going? Would he even say goodbye?

She was determined not to let things begin this way. After helping to snatch eggs from the fat anxious hens, and taking a bite of bread and cup of fresh milk in the kitchen, Halla announced, "I will bring my husband his breakfast, Blythe."

" 'Ere it is, then," Blythe replied, not a suspicion in her plain friendly face. Halla took the tray of scrambled eggs and bread and butter, and Blythe placed a tankard of warm small ale beside the plate. Halla marched off, and then she cringed, wondering how a new bride ought to walk the morning after her wedding. She'd no idea how she was supposed to feel, and no way to feign it but by shortening her stride, her gate stiffening self-consciously.

She found Finnan seated at the table in the hall, with two other Riders beside him.

"Good morning, husband!" Halla said boldly, setting his breakfast before him. "I trust you slept well?"

Finnan blanched, giving her his cold, accusing eyes. Halla felt as if he'd spat on her. She smiled politely to her guests, then backed away in horror. He would not even _try! _He'd shamed her before his own friends! What did _they _think of her?

Halla had to summon all her strength not to run from the room in tears, like a little girl slapped away by an impatient older brother. She thought to take refuge in the barn, but arrived just in time to see the stable boy bringing out Finnan's roan charger. The horse was prepared for a long ride. Not only were their bags attacked to the sturdy wood and leather saddle, but a pallet rolled and tucked behind it. How long was he leaving for? She could hardly ask the freckle-faced stable boy!

She ducked into the tack room, her stomach twisting with shame and rejection, and a good dose of hot fury. How dared he treat her so miserably? So what if he was a Rider, a man of wealth and standing? At the very least, that would usually imply he'd have honor! So he did not want her, didn't like her, could he not at least be _gracious_? Could he not bid her good day? Could he not have put off this trip, so that the whole village need not know how lowly he thought of his new bride?

"Sumthin the matter, Mistress?"

Halla thought she'd die of shame. What was his name—Ailen?—was staring at her with big, curious blue eyes. "Nothing at all. I cannot find my horse's tack."

"Silverfire, right? I thought you might like to take him for a ride this morning. I know _I_ would, if I had such a colt given to me! I brought him in first thing this morning. He'll be ready in just a few moments."

"Thank you," she said quickly, glad he had a reason to go away. _I won't hide in this barn!_ Halla thought bitterly. She went to the entranceway, watching as her new husband, no husband at all, swung onto his charger's back and rode out the gate without a backwards glance.

Halla had to get away. She hadn't felt so out of place since her parents had died, so long ago she could hardly remember anything but the fear and the loss, and the sense that nothing would ever be right in the world again.

_But it was all right,_ Halla thought. _Aunt Hilda gave me hot soup and told me stories of the great _Maeras_, and made me forget the fire and the screams. They kept me safe for all those years, and I learned to like their farm. And I will learn to like this place, if it's the last thing I do. _

She swung lightly into her own saddle, stroking his snowy neck, talking softly to him as he danced in anticipation. Halla felt the same way, almost unable to restrain herself from galloping off, leaping the fence and running into the mountains. But she was a good rider, and she put the colt through his paces, keeping his mouth soft in her hands and his body responsive to her light seat and slim legs. When she finally let him run, it erased all the shame and fear and doubt, if only for a few moments. The fog was burning of the meadow and the wind was fresh. She cantered past the tree line, into the forest that was far safer now than it had ever been before. Ferns and carpets of violets lined the old path into the mountains, and Halla followed it up and up, to where the little river that bordered her own dowry lands ran swift and cold from the peaks below. There was a waterfall still a ways higher, and a shallow ford where the rocks broke up the current and Silverfire could have some water. She slowed him to a walk so that he could cool off first, riding up the trail with no other sound around her than the thumping of her swift colt's hooves, and the chattering of birds.

As soon as Halla approached the ford, her colt's gate changed, dipping low each time his left foreleg struck the ground. Halla reined him in and hopped down, drawing braided leather reins over his head. She knelt spryly beside him, running her hands down his mud-flecked leg to check for heat or swelling. Finding none she clucked softly and leaned against his leg, lifting his hoof up. It was packed with mud and rocks, and even digging most of it out with her fingers she couldn't see if he'd picked up a stone in his shoe or not. "Come on, boy," she called softly, leading him into the shallow water. Cupping a handful, she rinsed the mud away and saw, sure enough, a sharp stone wedged between his hoof and the iron. She pat him on the flank and took her small work-knife from its sheath at her belt.

As soon as she set the knife to his hoof, trying to wiggle the stone out, the colt snorted and stomped his hoof down. His tail swished, and his ears pinned against his head. "What is it? Got a bruise already? Just hold still, it's almost out…"

She flicked her knife and the stone went flying. "There," she soothed. "All better now…"

Silverfire snorted and yanked away from her. His eyes were white around the edges, white with terror. He ripped the reins from her hands and spun, and no matter that she shouted his name he was gone in an instant, running hard for home.

Halla stared after the horse in shock, a chill creeping up her spine. She looked wildly around, up to the cliffs above the river, into the stands of tall pines, and saw nothing amiss. Calmed a little, she felt the stinging welt left by the reins. She touched her palm gingerly, cursing softly. Halla went back to the stream and stuck her hand into the water, wincing as it rushed cold over the raw skin. _Of all the cursed luck_, Halla thought. _Now I have to walk back!_

She had just glanced up when her eyes caught sight of something moving in the clutch of ferns across the ford. Frowning, Halla stood. The old fears came rushing back to her: fear of being alone, fear of monsters streaming out of the mountains, fears that the end of the War should have banished. Halla refused to run from shadows and memories. Whatever it was, it was close to the ground, too small or injured to be a threat to her.

_A wounded animal?_

It wasn't uncommon. There were wolves and lynx in the alpine forest, and rockslides now from the impact of the Enemy's destruction, and of course the villagers hunted here, now that the threat was gone from Isengard. Halla wouldn't be able to turn away from a wounded deer, or even a lynx. If it was a predator, she'd walk back for Ailen, and the two of them together could try to give the creature a chance.

Halla crossed the ford. These things happened, she thought. Seeming accidents that were in fact a sending of Bema, who guarded the hunter and hunted both in the balance of life. Halla might be meant to help. The thought comforted her, after her husband's stinging, baffling rejection. She might not be pretty to her own husband, but at least she could do some good.

She heard a low, harsh breathing, the scratching of a weak growl. _Certainly a predator,_ Halla thought, _no doubt why SIlverfire ran off. _The colt was too green to stand calm before danger as the great warhorses would. Halla slipped her knife out again. She'd tended a predator herself before, when her uncle had shot a yearling wolf with his bow. But Halla had not only failed to save the soft shadowy grey hunter, she'd taken a good whipping from her uncle for trying to do it in the first place. It was obvious to her that this creature, whatever it was, had been trying to get to the water before it fell. Likely it was in bad shape then, and Halla steeled herself to see carnage, a living creature at its end.

She crept cautiously towards the weak sound, seeing again the shadow of deep grey behind green. She stepped lightly, as silent as she could, and even still as soon as she got close the creature stirred in panic, shaking the ferns, claws scraping weakly along rock.

Halla took one last step, and then she stopped in cold, gripping terror.

An Uruk-hai warrior lay on the forest floor, belly and ground slicked with his black blood and his leg bent near backwards. His breath was shallow and fast and his yellow eyes wild. He eyed her up and down and snorted—in resignation, it seemed like, with a touch of irony that shocked Halla, as if he was sentient, as if he found a dark humor in it all. He tried to pull himself up again, his hand weakly scrabbling over the rocks. When it proved too hard he dropped onto his back again, gasping. The Uruk-hai shut his eyes. "Do it…" he growled, shocking her that he could speak her tongue. "Fast… be best…"

Halla squeezed the knife in her hands. _I should do it. I should kill him. It would only be fair._

Halla had lived under the terror of the Uruk-hai for as long as she'd been alive. She had lost cousins and friends to their brutality, those who'd been massacred outright—the lucky ones—and those who'd been carried off on the shoulders of a beast, never to be seen again. They were monsters, butchers, rapists, baby-killers who ate the dead raw. They slaughtered horses for pleasure, taking almost as much joy in that as in killing villagers, as if they somehow understood that the horse was sacred to Halla's people. How many women, in her place, would not plunge in the knife, or pound its skull with stones? Or better yet… _just walk away._ Let the wolves feast, let the Uruk die of thirst a stones-throw from water. Let it _suffer_, as it had made so many of Halla's kin suffer. It would be no less than the monster deserved. For a moment, Halla was overwhelmed with the heady thirst for revenge, and her knowledge of absolute power over an enemy. His life was utterly in her hands.

Halla drew a short breath, her fingers worrying the hilt of her knife. _It would be like when Uncle Aelfred slaughters the hogs._ She could picture it clearly, one of her first memories of her new home. A scent of blood in the cold autumn air, the high squealing, the cowering of the others towards the back of the pen. Halla had sobbed violently and childishly sworn that Aelfred was a beast. It had reminded her, somehow, of the thing she had at one locked into a dark corner of memory, never to be revisited: the death of her parents. It would be better to walk away. Halla didn't think she could kill… at least not without the immediate threat of danger.

She grimaced: _Isn't he dangerous? Of course! _She took in his sharp, black claws, his heavy crushing muscles, the tips of sharp fangs that were visible between his parted lips as his weak panting filled the air. His eyes were shut, as if he didn't fear the killing blow, was just _ready_ for it. Maybe he wanted her to kill him. Surely he knew he'd be worse off if she _did_ walk away.

Halla leaned over him a little, wondering how she'd best do it. Downed as he was, Halla didn't want anywhere _near_ his reach. Or his fangs. He didn't have a weapon… but then, he didn't need one, did he? He could kill her with his hands… Or with other parts, mixing shame and terror.

_Not this one,_ a small voice said. _Couldn't kill a lamb like the way he is._

He opened his eyes, squinting at her. "What? …Go, kill! …Lucky… day for you."

"I don't think it's _lucky_ to kill anything lying on its back!" Halla said sharply.

He snorted, a pitifully weak sound. "Don't… know _how… _do you?"

"What-? Well, I suppose I don't! I don't go around killing folks like you do!"

"Little knife… neck… belly… got one… there already… Cut the rest up… inside." He said it matter of fact, as if he was talking of dressing a chicken.

Halla covered her mouth, thinking she'd vomit. "I'll just give it to _you_," She said. "You do it. Since you're such a master of it."

The Uruk hissed softly. "Tryin'… for the water. Not… the nothin'. Kill me… or go away."

"You'll die before you get to the river," Halla said sharply.

He rolled his head to the side, looking at her full on. "Don't want to kill…enemy?"

Halla, stunned, couldn't respond. Why _didn't_ she want to kill him?

"Get water then," he said, fixing her with his feral yellow eyes.

A breathly laugh of shock escaped her. "What?"

"Need water… too many… days. Water to drink…and to wash. Maybe I live."

Halla brushed her fingers over her lips. She shook her head. "Why should I help you?"

The Uruk frowned. He seemed _thoughtful_. Halla wondered if she'd in fact fallen off of Silverfire and cracked her skull. She couldn't be _conversing_ with an Uruk-hai!

He took a shaky breath. "Not gonna kill me… help me. War's over. Help you back… one day. Say how."

"I can trust you?" she scoffed.

The Uruk nodded, eyes low with pain. "Yeah. War's over. Don't want… trouble… with your kin. Got... enough trouble."

"Who did that, then?" Halla asked, nodding to his broken body.

"Wild men… Then the cliff."

"Damn," she whispered softly. "Damn." She was trapped by her own conscience, by her inability to kill, or to walk away. By rights she should have, and if their places were reversed and he'd come upon _her_ in the forest… Halla shuddered to think it. "More of you around?"

He arched his smooth, sweaty brow and nodded severely. "Not telling where. But no trouble with the Riders… or their women. Right? Been here a while… see your Menfolk huntin… No trouble."

"How do you speak my language?" Halla asked, amazed, slightly horrified but amazed. They had been living in peace beside a pack of Uruk-hai all spring?

"Got four languages," he said, a touch of pride in his raspy voice.

"You won't have much of a chance anyway," Halla told him, trying to be cold. "Not unless your… your fellows come to bring you home. You need medicine, bandages, food, and shelter. Not just water."

He arched his brow again, training his eyes on her, shrugging lightly though it made him cringe with pain. "I'll wait here for you," he said. Was that dry humor now? Was that a smile at the corners of his lips? "Don't need shelter, tho… Don't take chills so much. Don't mind the rain."

"You think I'm going to save you," Halla breathed, shaking her head.

The Uruk nodded. Halla realized his expression wasn't just sentient, but sharp and clever. Also bold. He was surely broken, but he didn't seem the slightest bit afraid, even if it was to go into the _nothing_, as he called the place he thought he'd go in death. But he definitely had no wish to die.

"Damn," she swore again. She looked around the forest until she saw a maple with broad, flat leaves. She hurried to the tree, and ripped a leaf off. She rolled it into a funnel and folded the bottom tip up, and filled it with cool water from the stream. When she stood over the Uruk again she asked softly, "You going to trick me? Grab me and… and hurt me?"

He snorted incredulously, and shook his head slowly. "Just want my life," he said quietly.

Halla's heart pounded until she was dizzy, but she knelt down beside the Uruk's face. The way he held her eyes was deeply disturbing; such a hot, gripping stare, as if he saw right into her. She looked away before she carefully put her hand behind his head, feeling his thick, warm hair, bound back at the nape of his neck with a simple leather cord. She lifted his head, feeling his neck strain as he helped himself up enough to drink, relying as little as he could on her assistance. But his bold, calm demeanor was stripped away as the cool water touched his parched lips. He seized at the water with all his being: tipping his head back to open his throat, swallowing deep and hard. He reached a weak arm up and clasped at Halla's hand, and she gasped in fear. But he was only trying to tip the green cone all the way, to get at the last drops. He released her immediately, leaving a heat on her skin that wouldn't go away. She brought him water three more times, seeing that some of the feverishness in his eyes seemed to dissipate. She felt sorry for him then, the way she'd felt sorry for the wolf. It couldn't help what it was any more than the Uruk could, and though she was sure she'd gone mad, she believed him when he said he wouldn't hurt her. His discomforting gaze also allowed Halla to judge his intent, quite clearly.

"I must walk back my village. My horse ran off. But I will ride him back later on, with some things to help you. And you… you just remember with this _woman_ did for you."

"Always," he said, giving Halla the anxious, certain feeling he was committing each detail of her to memory.

Shaken by that thought, Hall turned on her heel and walked away, sure that she'd get home and lose her courage—or her folly—and never return.


	2. Chapter 2

Halla leaned forward on Silver's neck, gazing into the darkness. "Nellwyn!"

"Halla!"

The young woman stood her pitchfork against the stable door and ran out of the barn, chaff clinging to her straw blonde hair. "Halla, how was it! Or should I say, Mistress Halla now? Lady of the Manor?"

"Hardly, Nellwyn… Anyway, I need your help. Or your mother's help, really. I… I've an injured horse in my upper field, took a nasty kick. I need to stitch the wound and make sure it doesn't get infected."

"Oh, Halla! Morning after your wedding, and you're out inspecting the herd! You should still be in bed with your Rider!"

Halla forced a weak laugh. "Right… Well… Work doesn't stop, you know. But… your mother? It's rather urgent. He's bleeding pretty bad…"

"You need her, herself? She's gone to check on Mildred, who should be having her baby any day now, but that was a good while ago. I could fetch her…"

"Uh—No… If you know where she keeps her supplies, that is. I've the needle and thread already, but I need her salve."

"Sure. Let me run to the house."

Halla waiting impatiently, while Silverfire stomped his hooves and swished his tail at the flies that came out as the summer sun warmed. Nellwyn came hurrying back, her braids flying, a small clay pot in her hands. "Hope this is enough."

Halla reached down, and Nellwyn clasped her fingers.

"Not even the tiniest little hint about Finnan?" Nellwyn asked.

Halla slipped away, clutching the pot. "Thank you, Nellwyn, I really appreciate it, give your mother my love!"

"Halla!" Nellwyn called. "Don't you like him? Did it not go well?"

"Just fine!" Halla shouted over her shoulder, cantering away.

* * *

"Trust me, boy," Halla murmured, keeping her legs steady on Silverfire's sides. The young horse wanted no closer to the Uruk-hai, and he was dancing skittishly long before they reached the river. Halla was prepared to fix the Uruk up… she didn't need to fall off her own horse on the rocky trail! She closed her fingers on the reins, halting the colt a good distance from the river and jumped down. She looped his reins loosely around a tree-branch, hoping he wouldn't realize he could break away with only a little effort. To tie a horse tightly in such a situation could lead to it breaking its teeth on the bit, or even its back, if it panicked to get away.

She swallowed deeply, taking her supplies from the small leather satchel she'd grabbed. She heard no sound but the babbling of water over the rocky ford, and the singing of birds safe overhead. But he was still there, his breath raspy, his eyes closed. Halla thought he slept.

"You came back," he said quietly. "Got strong drink?"

"Actually I do have a little something, because I've got to stich some of those cuts up, and that slash on your… your stomach."

He opened his eyes warily, searching her. "Give it."

Halla dug in her satchel and found the flagon of liquor she'd poured, from one of her wedding gifts. Somehow she didn't think her new husband would miss it, or even her. She reached out—still not wanting to be close to him—and passed him the flask. He snatched it and drank quickly, like he was drinking water.

"Don't finish—that." Halla shook her head. "I wanted to pour it over that belly wound."

"Fire's better. You gonna burn me?"

"Of course not. We've better ways. Stitch you up, keep it clean. Give me the flagon, I'll fill it in the stream. We'll just have to make do with water, though it's not as good."

The Uruk was skeptical, but he left it alone. He wasn't in the position to complain about her treatment.

Halla retrieved some water and knelt slowly beside his terrifying presence. Even incapacitated… his very breath was a growl, a deep rumble from somewhere in his broad chest. He opened his eyes and watched her, unnerving her by the moment. She decided _not_ to look at him. Help him out as best she could, and ride home as fast as she could. She set the water down, took out the bone needle and her thread, and looked at it thoughtfully. Was there some way she could sew him without touching him?

"Know what you're doin' with that?"

"Well enough," Halla said, rather primly. He was questioning her skill now? She took out the bandages and supplies, and then stopped to stare at them. And _him_. "I've got to… to get you cleaned up."

She hoped he'd look away. Sometimes hurt Men closed their eyes. Grit their jaws. The Uruk stared straight at her, his head rolled halfway to the side to get a better view over his broad shoulders. He watched her pale hands a good deal of the time, pouring water, wiping lightly with bandages. He thought he wouldn't feel her touch, but even feather light, it made his grey abdomen ripple and contract. She was sewing his skin up, which bit a little, and ached near the knife wound from the Dunlending. He looked to her impassive face, the little determined line that creased between her eyes as she concentrated. "Fix up many Men?"

Halla nodded, refusing to see his glowing feral eyes. "You get used to it, I suppose. Animals too."

"Why animals? Why not eat them?"

"We don't eat our horses," Halla told him firmly. "And we don't eat the dead."

"Don't eat what dead? You… eat no meat?"

She tilted her head in surprise. "No—I mean… No dead Men. Or horses. But we eat dead goats and cows and pigs. And chickens, and wild foul."

"And Uruk-hai."

"Of course not!" Halla was so astounded—and irritated—that she looked him head on, pausing in her sewing. "What would give you that idea?"

"Truly? You don't eat us when you kill us?"

He was utterly sincere. Halla frowned, and began to work again. "No. Never. But you eat Men, don't you?"

"Not for a while."

Halla touched her throat in brief horror, and then she steeled herself again. "I shouldn't be doing this for you."

"Won't tell anyone," he said lightly. "Got my word."

He was laughing at her now, she was sure. _Or trying to put me at ease?_

"There. Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head slowly, still staring. _Ill mannered_, Halla thought.

"Well I just might now. I need you to sit up soon, so I can bandage this big gash. And I think that leg's broke, and likely other places too. If the break's not clean I don't know what we'll do. I don't trust myself to break it again and re-set it." Halla sighed in frustration. "I don't like leaving you here, either. Soon enough hunters will come up this way, and I'll have wasted by time."

"You want me to move," he said, closing his eyes.

"Well I can't _drag_ you... But let's not worry about that yet. Can you use that arm you grabbed the drink with, and put this ointment on your wounds? It will keep them from going rotten."

He opened his eyes again, and they seemed unduly warm. "You do it. Hurts my arm."

A chill went through Halla, and she felt suddenly frightened that he'd grab her up, do what his kind was known well for. She slowly took off the stopper off the jar and scooped salve onto her fingers, and tried not to feel her stiches over a belly that was stony and soft at the same time. She was surprised by the softness of his skin. Harder than hers of course, harder than a Man's, but yielding and smooth all the same. His body was almost that of a Man's as well, not like the little Orcs with their gangly arms and bowed legs, although he was massive and hard like granite. _A perfect warrior to destroy homes and lives._ But he didn't grab her.

Halla stood abruptly, feeling his eyes tail her skirts as she walked to the river to wash her hands again. She returned to him, squatting down. "I'm going to check that leg before I make you sit, and find sticks to splint it."

"Splint it?"

"To keep the bone straight as it heals. I have to touch your leg now. To see just where it's hurt."

Halla moved down to his long body. He was wearing nothing but a long leather breechclout, all but naked, and old leather sandals. Everything about him was immense, sculpted, not a bit of loose flesh, not a bit of weakness. If Men longed for things like women did, one might yearn for such thick, powerful legs. Halla tried not to shudder, imagining the things she had heard, the things she hadn't let herself see during the War.

"Afraid?" he asked.

Halla denied it, not knowing her scent was thick in the air around her. "Just not used to seeing one of you out of uniform, nor so close. I always had a good horse to run away with."

"Never been caught," he murmured.

Halla drew a tight breath, and shook her head. She had to martial her will to touch his lower leg, the one that was oddly bent from the knee. She ran her fingers up his leg, feeling a break halfway up the shaft of his heavy bone. The Uruk winced a little, as if she'd finally hurt him. "It's not so bad," Halla assured him with the quiet, firm tone she'd take with any Man. "It's clean, and it doesn't stick out. You'll likely walk again one day."

"_One day_?"

"You didn't think you were going to live this morning. I'd say you've got a fair chance of it now, and keeping your leg too."

"How will I _eat…_ if I can't get home… and I can't hunt? You… will bring food?"

Halla withdrew, unable to answer. She went to retrieve sticks, and returned without answer. She'd brought him a small, round loaf of bread from the kitchen, but she couldn't bring herself to commit to visiting him every day. "I must straighten your leg now, and bid you bend your knee a little. I think your knee is only wrenched about, not broken."

"Hard to break Uruk-hai," he told her. "But… my leg don't move. Tried all night long…"

"I will help you," Halla said firmly. She took hold of his leg below the knee and above the break, and slowly urged it right. The Uruk sucked his breath, exhaling it in a rolling growl that panicked Halla deep in her core. But he moved with her, coaxed along by her hands. Soon she was able to splint his lower leg and wrap it as tight as she dared with her bandages. That, at least, hurt the great Uruk: he was panting again, his eyes closed, and Halla was astonished to feel herself _pitying _the creature.

"There now," she said quietly. "Let's take a little rest, before I sit you up. I've got a bit of food for you now, for as soon as you're sitting."

"Gonna… puke…" he panted roughly.

"Yes, I'll bet you do feel a little nauseas. But I must say, you're a good patient."

"Patient…" he repeated, opening an eye and looking at her quizzically. "Patient waiting?"

"No, patient as in, you are my patient, because I am healing you. Or doing what I can, at least. Why, what would you call it, someone hurt like this, needing a healer?"

"_Aaps_," he exhaled. "Meat. No healer. Break a leg, go to the butcher. At least, that was the way in the War."

"But that's awful," Halla said, examining him in surprise. "You had no healers… in Isengard?"

"No. Not necessary. Master saved officers maybe with _dush-tab_… his magic. But not regular warriors… he just makes more. Master made so many… Now few left. All dead."

Halla shook her head. "There's no bottom to Saruman's treachery, we know that well. He was a friend to Rohan, or so we thought. Until he made war on us, brought you all in to fight us."

"Not brought. _Made._ Bred us to fight his war. But I am free now, I don't hear my Master anymore."

She pinched her lips in disdain. "I didn't know you had females of your kind, but I imagine that only makes sense—"

"No Uruk females. _Sharlobu_, like you. Master said, 'Carry off their strongest women', and so we did."

Halla blanched. Her shaking fingers covered her mouth. She forced herself to absorb the shock—forced the awful image away—and asked the most important thing, letting a little hope rise. "Are… are they still alive?"

The Uruk shook his head, closing his eyes, as if to a painful memory. "No one is _alive_, only me and a few others. All the rest—all in the pits—drowned when the tree-monsters broke the damn. Locked in, you see. Pit filled with water and—"

He cut himself off, seeing tears shining in her eyes. "You hoped they lived. The ones taken in raids."

"I am foolish to do so," she chastened herself. "I'd counted them dead already… But I hoped… No doubt they would not wish to live anyway." It was not the Uruk's fault for speaking the truth, but Halla knew she'd never erase the picture in her mind of her cousins, her kinswomen, forced to bear such… offspring.

"Some wished to live," he said quietly. "Strong, strong females. Tree-monsters killed them, they died with Uruk-hai and Orcs, all the same. Not Master. He was in his tower. Safe."

"A curse upon him," Halla hissed.

A faint smile brushed across the Uruk's face. "Your curse has much company… from all sides of the War."

Halla nodded, business-like, pushing it all away. "Come, you must sit up now. I will wrap the last bandage around your belly, so that no dirt gets into the big gash I've sewed up."

He breathed hard, drawing his strength. "Something hurts… in my back. Makes me… can't move right."

Halla frowned. "Can you wiggle your toes, on the leg that is not broken?"

He did, slowly. Halla bit her lip, and ran her fingers over his sides, pushing softly, illiciting another wince. "Broken and brusied, all the way through. But you didn't break your back, so that's good. And so no excuses. Sit up now."

"You will help?"

"I doubt I can do much to lift you," Halla said quietly. "But… take hold of this arm, and with the other I will try to push you up as you sit."

She loathed being so close to him. His rumbling growl was almost right in her ear as he grasped her arm and began to pull up. Halla braced her other arm against his back, her fingers clenched, trying to help as much as she could without touching him overmuch. He was so hot, even in what shock his body must be enduring from his injuries. His skin was hot, his breath was hot stirring her hair. His scent seemed to spike as she touched him, a scent she couldn't describe although it triggered a panic in her. Not foul… but deep, and predatory, and _male._ She looked pointedly over his shoulder, into the clean forest, feeling his hand reach for his lap. _He's moving himself about,_ she thought, bile rising in her throat. _Well, probably doesn't want me seeing his parts. _The thought amused her: Uruk-hai modesty. And she was dead wrong in her guess.

Without looking—any more than she had to—Halla wrapped the bandage around his belly. When he lifted his arm to let her wind the bandage around him, Halla thought she saw a hideously large bulge beneath his clout. Her throat went dry and her pulse fluttered like a drunken butterfly. "There," Halla gasped, tucking the bandage and backing away. She had to breathe hard to steady herself. _Just tend him. Just tend him the way you would any soldier. And that happens with Men too, sometimes, when you care for them. Just not… so _big. _Or so dangerous..._

"Are you hungry?" Halla asked, determined to keep the fear from her voice. She'd no idea that he'd registered her fear, that he could taste its varieties, its swells and troughs; she'd no idea his senses had been meddled with so much that the scent of her fear, the taste of it over his tongue, was a sweetness to be craved.

"Very hungry," he purred. He couldn't move much, but her closeness, the sweet smells of her fear, and the flowery meadow scent of her hair, the warmth of her body brushing against his… He wished more than anything that she'd take a seat on his lap and let him fill her to bursting. He'd never had a woman touch him of her own will, and it was a powerful seduction to the injured warrior. As long as he lived, he would not forget the feeling of her fingers rubbing ointment over his hard belly.

"You promised," Halla whispered, horrified.

"Aye," he breathed, wondering how she could tell. She wouldn't look at his stiff cock, and he hadn't told her… Perhaps she could scent his arousal?

_Stop being a fucking idiot,_ he scolded himself. _Panic her, she'll never come back, and I'll die here. She ain't gonna climb on my club and jump about! And I ain't strong enough—or fool enough—to stick her there._ "You said you had food?"

"Food…" Halla gasped, slightly bewildered. "Yes. I've food for you. Though you… you think of _that_ again, I won't ever bring any more, and the crebain can have you."

A rich sound rolled from his chest, and Halla realized it was his laughter. "You can read thoughts?"

She glanced at him from the corners of her icy blue eyes. "I'm not _blind_."

The Uruk grunted a little. "Can't help _that._ Been a while, you know. Living round nothing but other Uruks… You are… very desirable. But I won't touch you. I'm not that stupid."

"Because… because… I wouldn't come back…" Why was it so impossible to string her words together? Because a beast had called her desirable? _He desires _rape_, Halla, and he's a monster. _Nonetheless, it was sickeningly bemusing that her own husband thought her a hag, and her enemy thought her… desirable.

"How many?" Halla asked, grasping for a different subject.

"How many what?" he asked, charmed by her obvious confusion.

"How many of you, living nearby?"

"Huh. Like I'll tell you, so you tell your kinsmen. But tell you one thing… we're living like rats, hiding from everything, hunted by everyone. You'd be pleased."

"But you haven't attacked us."

"No, what for? We want to stay alive, right? That will tell you enough about our numbers. And I told you already… We've no females. Don't suppose you know any willin' to help out with that?"

Halla swept her shocked eyes to his bright, feral, golden gaze, ready to shout at him. Until she saw the smile on his face… and the sadness behind it. What would it be like, to be the last of her kind, with no hope at all for the future? Despised by all? _I am _not_ feeling empathy for an Uruk!_

"Here," she said, digging in her satchel. She pulled out the small loaf, and tossed it to him.

He sniffed the bread, and found it wholesome. He ripped it apart and devoured it, starved. The female stood, her slim, rounded hips rolling as she walked to the river to fetch him more water. It was almost—_almost_—worth being hurt to have such a lovely creature waiting on him like his own personal _snaga._ It was frustrating to want her, and not be able to take her, but he feasted his eyes on her, memorizing her shape so he could call it up later, when his need grew too demanding to ignore.

She returned, squatting before him, avoiding his eyes again. But she brought him water.

"You think you can drag yourself back into the forest a little, at least against those trees? I can try to help you, but I think you're strong enough to do it, and you won't hurt your leg as much now that it's bound up. At least you'll have some cover…"

"Yes. I'll try. Feelin' much better now."

Halla smiled a little, pleased with herself. "Well you're nothing like better, but it helps a bushel to have someone tend to your hurts. I suppose we're the same, in that respect. Come on, then. Let's get you away from the trail."

The Uruk would have been less movable than a boulder, but he used his mighty arms, and as much of his uninjured leg as he could with his bruised back limiting his motion. Halla swallowed her revolted terror and hooked her arms under his armpits, clasping her hands over his broad chest and dragging him along in short spurts. After a long while, they made it to a small grove away from the trail, where her Uruk-hai patient might remain unseen.

"If no one brings hunting dogs up here, you might be all right."

"Your dogs… scared of Uruk-hai. Won't… come close."

"Well, I hope you're right, for your sake."

"You will come back?" he asked, after he'd caught his breath. "Bring me food?"

"Yes," Halla said quietly. "And when you get well, and you get back to your people, you can tell them that I was kind to you _only_ because you all have not bothered us since Isengard fell."

"The War is over, and I told you. We can't attack Horselords. No more fighting for Maukurz."

"That's you? Mau… kurz?"

"Maukurz. Yes. You… have a name?"

"Halla," she replied, shaking her head. "And now we're properly introduced."

"Huh?"

"Nothing… I'm just being… It's just odd, is all. To be talking to you."

Maukurz grunted. "Yes, very odd, for me too. But not bad."

Halla stood up, hands on her hips. Maukurz kept his golden eyes locked on her, his gaze following her always, _like he's hunting me._ "You'll have to make it until tomorrow on your own, Maukurz. I've a household to run, and likely my servant woman will wonder where I've gotten off to. But I'll try to bring you a good deal of food tomorrow, enough to hold you a few days."

"You will bring…" Maukurz frowned slightly. "Talk? When you come? Stay for talking?"

"You are lonely," Halla realized.

"Very lonely," he replied quietly_._

"I will try," Halla said, and then she fled Maukurz. She hurried back to her horse, untied him, and leaped into the saddle, galloping away as if the wind could clear her strange, tangled feelings away. Halla had the feeling of trying to feed a wild wolf from her hands: unable _not_ to try, and knowing all the while that it was madness to do so.

_I will help him to heal, and then abandon him just before he gets his strength back. And then I will forget him, and think of nothing else but trying to make good from this horrible marriage._


	3. Chapter 3

"Will you sit and eat with me, Blythe?"

"Oh, Mistress… I usually have a bite to eat once the kitchen fires are out…"

"Look at this table, Blythe…" Halla said, trying to be cheerful when the only place set was hers. The long oak table was built for a company of Riders… or a brace of sons and daughters. But the hall was cold and quiet and Finnan's seat at the head of the table was empty. _And I don't even know when he will return!_ "Let's set two more places, and call the boy in to join us. I couldn't stand to eat alone. Come now, hurry, before the meat is cold."

Halla felt much better when her servants sat to eat. The boy Aiden came in blushing with spit shined hair, feeling a few years older and younger than fourteen all at the same time. Blythe quite properly took her kerchief off and tucked it into a fold of her gown before she sat. Halla said a blessing over the meat pies and roasted chicken. She cut the bird, and saw that her guests got choice cuts, and asked Blythe to pour a little wine. She thought she'd invite her friends to dinner soon. _Maybe he will be the imaginary husband, the illusion of a little girl playing at marriage. Except I get the house and the full undercroft of provisions, and I never have to do a thing for it. _

It wasn't as comforting of a feeling as she'd expected it to be. She'd have rather had her husband home. She'd like to know how he won the War. It seemed bitter to have peace, and a hero for a husband, only to have him loathe her. _What could I have done to give offense?_

Her guests were looking at her. Embarassed, Halla realized that they were waiting for their Mistress to eat first. She smiled and cut her first slice of meat, and once she'd eaten they followed suit. The boy looked fit to choke as he scarfed his meat and sopped his bread in the grease, and Blythe pursed her lips in a prim smile. "It's not a race, boy," Blythe told him firmly.

His eyes popped, and he swallowed it all with a gulp, wiping his mouth on his hand. "Sorry ma'aam."

Halla grinned and looked away, to the older woman. "Where do you come from, Blythe?"

"Just a little village on the other side of the river. Course, we'd been staying in the city for quite some time now."

"You evacuated, and never left," Halla guessed.

"It was just me and my old Thorne, after my Maudlin… After she and her young man were killed in the raid."

"I am sorry," Halla murmured, frowning. She didn't need to know more. Burned by fire or speared, or torn apart, it was all the same in the end. "My parents died in the War when I was four years old. Of course we didn't know it as such yet. We didn't know of the wizard's treachery."

Halla closed her eyes in memory… But all she saw was Maukurz, surrounded in cool green and dark blue twilight, leaning against a tree, his slanted golden eyes in sharp warm contrast. She wondered what he was doing.

_I don't care! I shouldn't care._ _I will not go back to see him. It's a disgrace that I've helped him so far. _

Halla took a deep drink of wine. She could hear the boy in the background, telling Blythe how he was an orphan now, but he was going to make his own way. The hall suddenly felt stifling, and Halla ran her fingers under her collar.

The door opened with a creak, and two waist-high wolfhounds burst in, tongues lolling, male laughter echoing through the door. Halla's eyes went wide at the huge dogs, and she gripped the sides of her chair. But after giving a quick sniff of the room, they lay down by the fire.

Then her husband walked in, and another man behind him. Finnan rocked to a halt when he saw Halla at his table, dining in style with his servants. "What is _this_?"

Mortified, Halla rose. She folded her hands infront of her lap for good measure. Only the wine helped her find a pleasant smile, and the words, "I didn't know when to expect you, my lord. And I didn't wish to dine alone."

For a moment, Halla thought he would burst. Finnan was utterly disgusted. But what did he expect should happen? He'd left on their wedding morning without even a word! After… after _that!_ Halla's cheeks flushed, and she thought if he scolded her before the servants and the company, she'd throw it right back at him.

Finnan saw her fire and grit his jaw. "Blythe," he said, snapping his fingers. "I've been hunting. I've killed a stag. Take it to the kitchen with the boy and after serving Edwyn and me, dress it proper. You, madam, may take your supper upstairs. "

Halla trembled with anger and rejection. How could she be blamed for taking a misstep, when he didn't bother to tell her what he liked? She wanted to tell him that if he'd not left her alone, she'd have been far happier home with him all day, and she would have dined any way he pleased. Instead she gathered her dignity about her rose from the table, leaving her barely touched plate behind. She glanced shamefully at Edwyn, a handsome young Rider with golden curls and a sharp face.

She'd gotten halfway up the stairs before it hit her: he'd been _hunting._ Halla turned halfway, lips parted to speak. _How can I ask him where he was hunting? How can I ask if he'd killed an Uruk-hai?_ She looked at his sword, sheathed on his hip, and on his clothing for any trace of black blood. She could see nothing more than that by now she'd been long forgotten, as Finnan and Edwyn, laughing, sat down to dine.

Halla didn't dare go downstairs to request bathwater heated and the tub brought out. She washed sparingly from the pitcher and basin on her nightstand, brushed out her long pale hair, and changed for bed. She could hear more laughter from the hall downstairs, though no words could be discerned. She lay in waiting for him, thinking that maybe the wine would do it for him, and he'd come up to bed. At the very least he'd want to talk to her, yell at her even. Halla lay still in bed listening, waiting, hoping, until her eyes fluttered shut.

She woke to the sound of doves in the early morning darkness, and pushed herself up sleepily. Her blinking eyes took in the perfect, unspoiled sheets beside her. Finnan hadn't even come to bed.

Halla stifled her sudden tears, but it was a bitter thing to endure. What was so awful about her, so repulsive that her own husband couldn't even stand the sight of her? How long before the entire village—people who looked _up_ to her now—knew that Finnan loathed everything about his new wife?

When Blythe came in with a mug of hot tea, Halla ordered water boiled for her bath. Blythe brought in a fine copper tub—a luxury that should have made Halla giddy with delight—and poured kettle upon kettle in to keep Halla warm. She bathed slowly, regarding her body, her round, firm breasts, wondering what in her slim legs and small waist would invoke such disgust from a husband. She washed her pale blond hair well, and rinsed it with lavender water. Halla planned to confront him, and she wanted to be at her best. She contemplated leaving her waist-length locks loose, but remembered that her new husband was too proper to eat with servants even, and a breach of etiquette like loose hair on wife of her standing would likely be unforgivable, no matter how appropriate, as she was still a maid untouched. Still, she only braided the top half back, leaving the rest to hang as it dried in winding waves. She chose a linen dress of cornflower blue that made her eyes stand out bold, and slapped her cheeks rosy.

Halla lamented the time it took to prepare herself. She nearly ran down the stairs, and didn't see him asleep. Her heart sank, and still she went on, to the stables. Ailen was up of course, mucking stalls for the two pregnant horses that were sleeping in at night.

"Has my husband been here?" she asked. She wasn't about to conceal his treatment of her anymore. Let everyone know he didn't bother to tell her what he was about!

"Come and gone, Mistress," Ailen said, his cheeks coloring to see her. Ailen thought Halla was the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and of course she was a _lady._ He'd already thought up countless scenarios in which he might save her from some doom or another.

Halla swallowed hard. She'd hoped until that last moment to be pleasantly surprised, held out hope even after Finnan's horrible behavior. Now there was nothing. For a moment, Halla felt like running back to Aunt Hilda and weeping in her skirts.

Then she remembered Maukurz, and the promise she'd given him without taking it seriously at all. Her breath shuddered as she thought of going to him. How many of his kind had her new husband killed? _How many has he killed of our kind?_

And yet, he didn't treat her like an enemy. He was near helpless in her hands, though she could see his mighty strength. Halla thought she ought to check his stitches at least. _And keep my word, bringing him food. Enough food so I needn't feel bad about leaving him alone there, by the ford._

_ If he is even still alive…_

"Ailen, you must catch my horse now, groom him and tack him up. And put saddlebags on. I plan to be gone for a good long while."

The freckle-faced boy bobbed a bow, and Halla hauled up her flowing linen skirt and ran to the kitchen. "Blythe!"

The woman turned in surprise, but beamed to see her mistress smiling. _Not gentle treatment at all, the way Master was to her last night!_ Blythe thought. "Can I help you, Mistress? Ready for breakfast?"

"Yes, but pack it. I will go to… my aunt's for the day. I want some cold chicken, venison, a quarter wheel of cheese, bread and wine. And have we any blackberries?"

"Red berries, Mistress," Blythe said quickly, amazed.

"Good. Enough for two."

Halla went to the house, and took one of the wool blankets out of her bedroom trunk. She folded it over once more and rolled it to fit behind her saddle. She opened up her husband's weapon chest and found a knife she could strap to her thigh. Halla thanked Blythe, telling her she'd be back in the evening, and took the basket of food to the barn. She thought to bring Maukurz food and check on his wounds, and then go to her aunt, and maybe think of some way to ask for advice that wouldn't humiliate her.

She rode through the flowery meadow, listening to insects hum in the morning cool. She couldn't go fast—she was carrying a large flagon of wine—and so was better able to savor the beauty of the day. Her horse was in high spirits as well, throwing up his proud head and snorting in the chilled but promising breeze. It felt wonderful just to get away from Finnan's house and the shame she felt while there.

The forest closed in on Halla, busy with life: deer slipping between the trees, hares darting through the ferns and pine needles on the ground. Birds flitted and even crashed through the greenery overhead. She saw a butterfly sampling the nectar of wildflowers. Then Halla's horse started to dance anxiously, and so she dismounted well before the water. She unstrapped the saddlebags and threw them over her shoulder, lifting her dress with one hand to cross the ford. Halla realized that she was hopeful to find Maukurz alive, and feeling a bit better. At the same time, she braced herself to accept it if she found him dead.

She wasn't prepared for him to be completely gone.

_They killed him and threw his body somewhere,_ Halla thought, sinking with despair, even as she couldn't understanding why that should upset her so terribly: he was a member of a vile race. Yet she couldn't deny her feelings. She looked down at the ground where she'd sat him, noticing drag marks in the fallen pine needles. She followed them a ways, until she saw smears of black blood.

Heart pounding, she looked up and gratefully saw him. Maukurz wasn't so far away, though it would have taken him since long hours before dawn to get there. He was lying flat on his belly, breathing hard. As she watched, he pushed himself up again, trying to crawl, dragging his leg behind him. "Maukurz!"

Maurkurz groaned and hung his head. Halla hurried to his side and squatted beside him, almost putting her hand on his back before she remembered who and what he was.

"What are you _doing_? Come, sit down before you hurt yourself worse!"

"Fuck this!" he growled. Halla flinched away from his anger. "Sit there, wait for death? Easy prey for fucking white-skin girls? I can't do it anymore!"

"You will jam your broken bone right through your skin and never walk again!"

He sighed in frustration, a deep guttural sound, and turned to look at her, stray strands of black hair hanging in his eyes. "I don't know how to sit there. All by myself. Smelling your dogs and horses and Men. Waiting to be found. Can't even give them a fight! Better to die trying to get home. Maybe I have luck and make it."

"Where is your home?"

"A long hike into the mountains," he grumbled through grit jaw.

"Maukurz… Sit and have something to eat. I've brought you food and wine and a blanket. I know you are hungry, I've brought good food."

He was still breathing hard, and Halla wondered if he'd even be able to sit. Maukurz grunted and dropped down on his hip. Bracing his broken leg with his hand, he slowly turned himself until he sat panting and exhausted, and quite obviously shamed by his struggle. Halla quickly laid the blanket out, and set out the meat and cheese, bread and berries. She took a long sip of wine, and passed him the flagon. Maukurz grunted yet again, grudging approval of the feast laid before him. He sniffed the wine, and took a sip, then made a face. "Sweet for fire-water. Does it even make you drunk?"

"Drink enough on an empty stomach, yes, quite. But it also quenches thirst… and dulls pain."

He flashed her a hostile gaze. "Made it through the whole War, so you know. Raids and battles… a battle not too far from here, then on to the Deep. Only scratches! Then I go home, and it's ruined and flooded and the Uruk-hai I find there are mad with fear, blubbering about trees and water. Now there is no War, and I live like a rat, and I am broken by a Man who shouldn't have had a chance against me! I should die for shame. I am Fighting Uruk-hai! I do not hide and _crawl._"

"I didn't know you were so proud."

"Proud? I don't know _proud._ I know I am faster and stronger and better. I know—I knew—nothing could stand before me. Now… everything is shit. No fighting, no raiding, no… no _sharlobu htolat. _Live less than a fucking dog."

She had no idea what his brute words meant, so she murmured, "Yesterday didn't you tell me you were free? Aren't you glad for it?"

How could she understand? Maukurz sighed harshly. "I was made to fight, to win fights. What is there for me now? Free… but nothing."

"You would wish to fight and kill me?" Halla asked softly. "Even though I helped you?"

Maukurz flickered his eyes over her. _Akh, I would be all over this one. I wouldn't let anyone else have so much as a taste of her. She'd never get my scent off her. _ But bitter mood aside, he understood her question, though it irked him that she didn't even seem frightened, because she _knew_ she could out-run him in his crippled state.

He shook his head, trying to make sense of his thoughts. It was hard to think right hearing her soft voice, almost as if her voice was enchanted. "No," he decided. "I don't want to kill you. I am… not speaking right. I… don't mean…" He frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know what else there is… but to fight. I was born to make war, now there is no war. Don't know how to do nothin' else. Don't know how to hide in the woods, in caves, watching others always… doing _nothing._ Baiurz says, we do nothing, so that we can stay alive."

"Baiurz?"

"Oldest Uruk in our group, the one who gives orders. I can listen to Baiurz, or fight him to lead the others, or go on my own. I tried to go on my own. I got jumped by a whole gang of Wild Men. Killed three, got stabbed by another…" Maukurz shook his head, disgusted. "Wound up stumbling right down the side of the mountain."

Halla felt pity for him. The warriors of her kin had farms to return to, wives and children and land to tend. She couldn't imagine a life that was created for no other purpose than to kill enemies. "Have you no skill? No craft to practice?"

"No," he said quietly, taking a mouthful of chicken. "Just war. Good food," he commented idly. "Dry but good."

"Nothing helps you when you're troubled so much as a good bit of food," Halla said, smiling a little. "My aunt Hilda says that. I'm sorry if it's dry… The venison was dried for storage, and the chicken left over from a dish served last night."

Maukurz swept his eyes over her as he ate a good portion of the meat and bread. She was a pretty little thing, though deeply foolish to be so close to him. "Why do you do this?"

"Why do I help you?"

He nodded curtly. "You are not so afraid of me today. Why? I am still much stronger than you."

"I felt… sorry for your suffering. I just went to you, not thinking of anything."

"Hmm," Maukurz turned his gaze away, only to glance discretely at her gown running over her body like water. His superiors had always warned that pity for an enemy—or even another Uruk—was fatal weakness and Halla's words only proved it. At the same time, Maukurz realized that his breathing had slowed, his panicked, helpless frustration had faded, all because of that soft calm the white-skin female brought. As if truly, she'd do him no harm. He'd never been around another living creature who he had felt a sense of safety with. Maukurz-injured worse than ever in his life-succumbed to the much needed respite with only a little inner turmoil. He knew he was severely injured, and that he'd exhausted himself crawling through the forest. But still... the girl's voice and energy lulled him, something he'd never expected to feel, certainly not from a white-skin. Maukurz lay slowly onto his side, balanced on his good elbow, his bound leg stretched out. He sensed her blood quicken as she looked at his nearly naked body, and that pleased him.

He plucked up a raspberry and put it to the tip of his tongue, ate the new food slowly, smiled drowsily. "Sour-sweet," he said, taking another one, then chasing it with wine. Maukurz felt the fatigue seeping in quickly, his body hard at work rebuilding. "You will trap me," he murmured. "Make me tired with food and drink, then kill me in my sleep."

"You can sleep," Halla told him quietly. "You certainly need it."

"What will you do? Talk to me, so I can hear your voice change if you move."

"I couldn't talk to myself," Halla said, smiling. "But I will sing to you."

"And wake me if there is trouble…" he said in a breath that turned into a low, contend rumble as Halla sang Maukurz softly to sleep.

* * *

_sharlobu htolat_-white-skin girls to fuck


	4. Chapter 4

Maukurz grumbled, confused as he came awake. He was cold, not sleeping jumbled up with his fellows, and the scent of a _sharlob_ was everywhere. He might have thought himself sleeping in the pits with one assignment or another… only he never slept in the pits… and he was in _pain._ Almost everywhere. Panicked, Maukurz opened his eyes and saw the canopy of an alpine forest overhead. He scrambled to get up, hopelessly weak.

"Relax," a fair, lilting voice instructed. The panic stalled, and Maukurz patched together the miserable past few days—months, actually—quickly in his mind. The destruction of his home, his culture, and the shameful half-existence of hiding in the mountains, where a good day was find a rotting carcass left by some four-legged predator. Then the stupid, _stupid_ accident, getting jumped… And winding up in the hands of a beautiful and foolish white-skin girl.

Well, things could be worse than that. Maukurz opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the girl, reclining on her arms, her long pale hair hanging in wind-swept tangles behind her. _Not a mark or bite on her_, he thought, becoming aroused immediately at the prospect of unbroken white flesh. He wondered if there was some way he might coax her… at least to use her hand or that berry-red mouth… Since she was in the mood to help, to be kind to him…

"Um…" he searched for her name, clearing his throat a little. Her scent was intoxicating, working through his senses, making what usually happened on waking become all the more urgent and throbbing. "Halla…"

She smiled at his face, not sensible enough to let her eyes follow his body down to his tented breechclout. Did she know _nothing_ about fucking? How could she not tell what he wanted, _needed?_ Not even enough to be properly terrified?

Maukurz scrambled for his wits. There was no fear in her eyes at all, only… only kindness. Pity. Not enough to make her spread her legs willingly—if her kind needn't _always _be chased and pinned or chained—but enough to patch him up and let him have a little peaceful sleep, while watching his back. Maukurz groaned softly, dismissing the idea of pleasure entirely. _Idiot_, he thought bitterly. Her kindness—even without a friendly little hand job—was far more than he had right to expect. She looked up to the deepening sky, and as she did, Maukurz dragged his body to a sitting position, the pain and effort of which was more than enough to cure his stiff cock. He'd always been proud of it—his big whelp-maker—but for some reason he was embarrassed of it in her presence.

"I have to go now," Halla told him.

"What? Go? Why go? You want more to eat?" Maukurz was willing to give back all the lovely food she'd brought if only she'd stay. He was even sorry he'd thought about fucking her, or coercing her into less satisfying play like he might a smaller Uruk in the pen. The girl was no protection from enemies, but her presence did keep the invisible enemies of loneliness and creeping consuming shameful fear at bay. And… and she was pleasing to look at, pleasing to listen to. He had never taken the time before, to enjoy such things with white-skin girls.

"No," Halla said, shattering his hopes. "You slept for a good long while. I have to go home… My people will worry and wonder."

Maukurz tilted his head curiously. He knew well enough what _sorrow_ looked like on a white-skin girl's face, what it smelled like in the air. "Don't want to leave Maukurz?" he asked, quietly hopeful.

She blinked in surprise. Had he read her unhappiness so clearly? Guessed it wrong, of course, but guessed it all the same. _I might rather stay with him than go back. At least he converses. In a way. _But that he saw her sorrow… she wondered if others might. She gathered herself up, and put on a bright, cheerful air, which baffled the big Uruk for its complete artifice. "I must go. I told you, I have a household. A… a new husband to look after."

"Husband?" Maukurz asked, wondering why she'd choked on that unknown word.

Halla flushed. "A… a Man. I am married. It means…" _Oh, Bema…_ "It means we… we are supposed to have children. One day."

Something in Maukurz's chest twisted violently, and he felt sick. _Of course, there'd be a Man to whelp her. No surprise._ All the same, bitterness welled up in him. Men didn't mark up their breeders, left no proud signs to be read, so that others… Others would know… He breathed her in deeply, smelling nothing whatsoever of a Man, he was certain of it. This pleased Maukurz. "Man don't fuck you," he murmured coyly. "Don't keep you hidden secret." _You don't belong to him at all. I would keep you close, and all would know you were mine._

"I beg your pardon!" Halla gasped, finally recovering her shock. "That is _none_ of your concern!"

Maukurz shrugged her off, refusing to look at her. "Go. Go to _pushdug_ _ruk-goth._"

"Why are you angry?" she asked, bewildered. "I haven't told him about you. I haven't told anyone!"

"Tell him," Maukurz sneered, his back to her. _Tell him, let him come, I will rip his shiny fucking guts out and claim you beside his gnawed up bones!_

Baffled, Halla stood and smoothed her skirt. "I am sorry you don't trust me. I don't blame you, being in your position. But if you can… if you can tell I'm unhappy, you should be able to see that I won't harm you. If anyone knew I was helping you, I don't know what they'd do to me. I wonder if you've thought of that. Good day, Maukurz."

Maukurz sat wide eyed and stiff until he heard her walk away, then he gasped and turned to watch her disappear beyond the trees. He felt terrorized suddenly: he'd run her off! He'd run her off, and she didn't say she would come back! _What have I done? And _why _would I do it? I will die without her! _

Maukurz groaned and covered his face, cursing the fate that would leave him broken and worthless and completely dependant on a white-skin girl. He smothered that small treacherous voice that whispered his greatest fear of all, that he would never see her again.

* * *

Halla galloped into the stable yard, breaking into a circle to rein the excited colt in. She trotted up to Ailen and jumped down from her saddle. "Cool him well!" she said quickly, straightening herself out, tucking wild stray locks behind her ears.

Ailen stared at her as he took the reins. "Trouble, Mistress?"

"Not at all! Is… my husband here?"

"Horse is here, I think," Ailen confirmed.

"Very good," she lied with dry lips. _I didn't even visit my aunt! What if Blythe asks about her? What about all the food? Is it mine to give, or Finnan's?_

She saw Blythe cooking through the open kitchen door. _Best just to avoid her for now,_ Halla thought, walking purposefully towards the house. The wind gusted through, catching up her hair and lashing it about. Halla grabbed a handful of her pale, silvery blond hair and pulled it over her shoulder. As she did, she heard the quiet creak of the heavy undercroft door opening in the wind.

_Blythe must have forgot to close it,_ Halla thought. She went to grab the iron ring handle and pull the great door shut, but then she heard a soft groan from within. Halla peered inside, through the bushels of apples and wheels of cheese neatly stacked by the door. There was a faint glow from a lantern behind the wine barrels, creeping though the fragrant drying herbs hung from the arching stone ceiling. Halla peered around the corner—and nearly fainted for shock.

Her husband stood in the soft, shadowy glow, his dark blond curls hanging over his smooth, strong bare chest. His head was tipped up, eyes closed, his breeches unlaced… his big hands clutching a golden-haired head, drawing it back and forth into his hips. Halla's first reaction was one of strange warmth, flooding through her deepest places. Then it made sudden, cruel sense, and she covered her mouth, smothering her shriek of fury and dismay. It was another woman! He had married her, all the while in love with someone else! _How dare he? _Why _would he do this to me? Obviously… he married me for my land, meaning to get his hands on that and then neglect me ever after, to do shameful things with some wench rather than bed his proper wife! Why the house? Why all the wedding and the gift of the colt—_Halla's mind went blank with horror.

Edwyn, the Rider who her husband had gone hunting with and had to supper, stood up and embraced her husband with rough tenderness.

Halla gasped. She smothered the sob that broke from her lips, but it was too loud. Finnan broke out of Edwyn's embrace, appalled guilt all over his face. "Halla—"

She turned on her heel and fled. Up the stone stairs, banging through the door into the dark hall, pounding up the staircase to her bedroom. Halla heard heavy boots chasing her, but she didn't care. She flew into her bedroom and ran to the narrow window, pushing the shutter open. Shaking with disgust, she gasped the fresh, meadow-scented air. The door burst open behind her.

"Halla, please!"

"Stay away from me!" she shouted, looking over her shoulder at her husband. She couldn't shake the image from her mind; she became nauseas as she fully grasped what Edwyn had been doing on his knees. "You… you fiend! You twisted, evil-! I don't even know what to call it!"

"Halla, please! You must be quiet!"

She rounded on him, demanding, "Why did you do this to me? Why bring me into this… this _shame?_ How could you do this to me?"

She saw the first real emotion on Finnan's face: he was terrified, beseeching… Palms up helpless as he came towards her. "I didn't mean for you to know, Halla. I didn't mean for you to be hurt! Edwyn and I… We are in love, I don't expect you to understand it…"

"Don't you speak that name to me! How _dare_ you speak his name to me, your wife? Your wife in name alone! You talk of _love?_ What life do you offer me?" Hysterical tears streamed down her face. "No love, no children!"

"Halla," Finnan shook his head sadly. He took her shoulders in his hands and said, "I'm sorry. I know my duty, and I do think you are beautiful... There will be children…"

"No!" she shrieked, slapping his hands away. "Don't _touch _me! Don't you ever touch me, you are a monster, I would rather _die_, I hate you!"

"Halla please, please! Keep quiet!"

"Quiet, you say!"

"Yes! My good name—"

"Is a lie! It's all a lie, you lied to my Uncle, you lie to everyone!"

"Halla, stop!" Finnan shouted, growing more panicked and angry by the moment, wondering where his servants were.

"I should tell everyone!"

Finnan lost control and delivered a stinging slap across Halla's mouth, and then quickly another. "You will _not_ tell," he hissed menacingly. Instantly he felt awful, but the damage was done. She felt into shocked silence, new tears welling in her honest, hurt blue eyes.

He backed away from her, feeling a thousand times the monster she had called him. Terrified to leave her with his desperate secret, and on such terms, Finnan tried to think of anything to say. Yet he found he couldn't even beg her forgiveness, though it would be the smart thing. _So many months of caution, only for _her _to find out!_ Finnan grasped for the icy demeanor that had always protected him before, even as his heart raced. He turned crisply on his heel and left the room.

Halla drew her fingers from her lips. There was blood on them, and her lip stung, though not nearly as much as her pride. She went to her bed and sank onto the clean white coverlet. Not caring at all, not having the heart to be seen in public slapped up by an angry husband, Halla curled up in bed boots and all, and sobbed herself to sleep.

* * *

_pushdug ruk-goth -_ stinking horse-lord


	5. Chapter 5

"Halla… Please, you must forgive me."

Finnan—who had fled immediately with Edwyn to a tavern twenty miles away—had finally found the guts to return home the following day, and he was frightened and alarmed to find his new wife still abed in the afternoon. She did not move, or even give sign she was awake, and she wore the same pale blue dress she'd had on the day before. Finnan nervously nudged his spur against his boot, picking mud out. "Halla...? Are you unwell?"

She sat up slowly, looking at him with hot, teary eyes. He'd bruised and cut her mouth, and Finnan understood immediately why she hadn't left the room. He closed his eyes and sighed, and wished his father had never urged him to so complicate his life. As if it was not irreparably complicated already.

But regardless, he owed this girl something. Some explanation. Yet he could not explain it to himself! He had looked at girls before, even had one in one of the more common mead halls… But he'd never felt anything at all—anything of higher meaning, that was—until Edwyn.

She watched him with wary disgust as he slowly approached the bed. Halla was mortally furious at her husband, and terrified of him at the same time. He sat on the edge of her bed, and Halla drew her legs close. Her husband-who-was-no-husband closed his eyes, obviously lost for words.

"Halla, I know I've wronged you. I didn't… I wasn't ready to do this. To marry. I… I assure you, I hold you in… in high esteem… I _do_ plan… to give you children."

_You can hardly say it! _Halla thought.

"You… you won't tell, of course…" he said.

Halla glared at him.

Finnan shook his head desperately, wishing his head wasn't all foggy with too much ale and wine. "You cannot understand! The War… How it was…"

_Can't understand the War?_ Halla thought angrily of her parents, of so many who had died, and most of all, those women who had gone missing. Now Halla knew their end, drowned by the very creatures who had aided their people at the Hornburg. How could he say she didn't understand the War, when she had grown up surrounded by its terror and loss?

"…I don't know how it happened… With him... But I _do_ care for you, Halla, I see that. I will make this up to you. I will… I will try…"

Finnan couldn't bring himself to say that he would leave Edwyn alone. It was far from… those things they did… Edwyn was more than a brother, more than a wife. Edwyn was his other self, and Finnan could not forswear him. He looked to his wife, thinking that she was a pretty, clean little thing. He had been far too drunk on their wedding night, far too unhappy and upset, and no matter how he had tried to do his duty he couldn't manage it. But there was no reason why he couldn't take pains to do it right _this_ night. He could get her with child, and their life could settle into normalcy. He reminded himself that she was a virgin, something he had never had. He thought he might be able to get himself excited enough over that alone. He stood up, look down over her slim body. "I will come to your bed tonight, Halla. I swear it."

_No! _Halla shook her head, but he had already turned away, shoulders pinched together uncomfortably as he retreated from the bedroom. She covered her mouth in horror. She didn't want him touching her! Halla wasn't sure if it was because he had a male lover, or because he had struck her; either way she felt trapped and terrified. Finnan had every right to come to her bed. And worse, if she tried to tell him to go away, if she tried to push him away… would he beat her? Would he _force _her? And could she even get redress or aid, as his wife?

Halla tried to think of an escape. Had there ever been anyone she knew, a woman who had left a husband? She could think of no one, but she knew what her husband would do if she tried it herself. He would never be shamed by such a thing. He had better connections than she. He would accuse her of some crime, likely theft or lewdness, because she was of a lower social standing. He would turn her out, keep her land, and she would be thrown back on her aunt and uncle's charity. Perhaps they wouldn't take her in. Perhaps she would have to, as her aunt so fondly put it, go astraddle the road for a living.

_Calm down,_ Halla thought, on the edge of tears. Nothing had happened yet. And she could avoid something happening… there _must_ be a way to get out of sleeping with Finnan. She would only have to think of it, in the remaining hours before darkness fell.

Halla kept up a front while she thought. She called for Blythe, and met the woman's shock over her bruised lip by firmly refusing conversation. She asked for a bath to be readied, a fair gown of rich green to be laid out. And then she sunk into the warm water, and wondered how she'd get out of lying with Finnan.

* * *

_She's never coming back._

Maukurz was close to losing his mind. Hope and despair tormented him equally as the day wore on. He didn't want to try to leave again, that torture of pain in his leg and his guts and his bruised up back, because she had warned him against it, and if she did return he thought it might please her to see that he'd listened to her. And yet as the sun wheeled overhead, and the light changed as the day passed, Maukurz fell back into the bitterness that had plagued him since the defeat at Helm's Deep.

_What's it all for?_ He wondered angrily, picking up small rocks and pelting them furiously at nearby trees. He was not fit to live as a whipped and beaten dog in a world of peace. He did not wish to exist in a broken state. It would be a mercy now for some of his fellows to come along and put him out of his misery, although Maukurz knew he wouldn't go down without a fight, not even if it was best for him to die. That, he thought, was the best he could hope for: to fight as well as he could, grossly disadvantaged, and then escape his uselessness in death.

_But where _is _she?_

_Maybe her Man's finally gotten some sense. Maybe she's with him now, maybe his hands are all over her and his teeth are on her throat—_

Maukurz growled in furious agony. That thought tortured him as much as his broken body, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

Of course, he'd spent his life preying on women and girls like her. When not on a raid, grabbing them with two or three or four other Uruk-hai warriors, he was down with the breeders, passing his strength and viciousness and perhaps his luck in battle onward. He had fathered hundreds. He knew a _sharlob_ body as well as his own hand, what it smelled like and tasted like, what teeth would do to it, what a tongue would do. How long it took to fight his way inside. And each one was different. A rumble of pleasure ran through his belly, thinking about it. Little Halla was a fool, coming so close to him. He could quite turn her inside out. And he badly wanted to.

Except… she could outrun him. He couldn't breathe sometimes, moving the wrong way. Things pierced and ground and tore in his body. He was back where he started. The grinding boredom and ignominy of his post-war life, now made grueling and untenable by his injuries. There was only one good thing in it, the hope of seeing Halla again. Of feeling calm around her. Hoping she would touch him again, _not_ forced, not as his prey. Hoping she would—against all bets—invite him to know all of her secrets, rather than him methodically stripping each one away.

And he had run her off. Told her to go, frightened her with his anger, all but challenged her _husband._ She would not come back. He wouldn't see her again.

_Maybe it's finished,_ Maukurz thought. _Maybe there's really nothing left._

As twilight fell, Maukurz began to pick at his bandages, peering beneath them to where Halla had stitched him up. It wouldn't be too hard to pluck the thread out. Wouldn't be hard to finish what the Dunlanding had started. A couple well-placed slashes of his claws. A reach and a grab and a yank on his guts ought to do it. He had seen Uruk-hai run to their death before, in the Master's service, and they were considered the bravest. The specially bred front-liners who spat on armor and laughed at death, the ones first up the siege tower, first over the walls, essential to the mission. Of course, that was when they had the comfort of Master's Voice, urging them to triumph, urging them to the full expression of what they were: perfect instruments of death and pain. The loss of that Voice had taken something fundamental away from Maukurz. The pain of its absence was a raw, unhealing wound. And the loss of the _life_, that was even harder. No one to fight, no one to dominate, no victory to be had. Death would end all of that.

Yet…

Maukurz sighed hard. It was beyond him to do himself to death. Broken to bits, he had half-consciously dragged himself towards water, trying feverishly to stay in the world. Maukurz had tasted enough of defeat, and it was bitter and miserable. To kill himself, ignobly, no opponent to challenge… It was like admitting defeat. Maukurz couldn't do it. Growling in helpless fury, he pulled his hand away from his stitches and punched the ground until his knuckles ached.

And then a sweet sound crooned through the trees and licked at his ears, soothing him. A wolf was howling in the distance, a wolf still free to hunt and chase and kill as Maukurz was not. The Uruk sigh deeply. He leaned back against the tree, and waited for the scent of his open wounds to lure the predator close.

* * *

As twilight fell, Edwyn trotted up the wide path to Finnan's manor, a milk-white yearling filly in tow. Halla watched from her window as Finnan, who seemed to have been idly target shooting, shouldered his bow and bounded over to his lover with a smile. It was painfully obvious to Halla now how much her husband delighted in the other Rider. They dared not embrace in public, but there was a fire between them that brought tears to Halla's eyes. Finnan examined the young horse with excitement, approving of the fine creature, taking her by the lead and heading off towards the lower field. Edwyn followed in tow, a bright smile on his magnificently handsome face.

_Likely tonight would be as horrible for Finnan as it would be for me_, Halla thought, turning away from the window. She shuddered at memory of Finnan's cold, emotionless hand on her breast. _He touched that filly with more passion than he touched me!_ And what sort of a man lay with another man? That was surely an abomination, even if Halla was too inexperienced to understand how that union could be managed. Surely it was a disgusting thing. _And he thinks he will come to me, after doing that! _

It was a good thing, then, that Halla had no intention of being in bed when he came.

_Better for me that Edwyn came_, she thought, pulling a dark brown hooded cloak from her trunk. Her hands trembled as she tied the laces at her throat, and slipped the hood over her shining pale hair. She couldn't go to any of her friends or cousins, or back to her aunt and uncle. Not without facing questions she dared not answer. She would just have to pass the night hiding in a place her husband would never think to look, even if he had the heart to seek her. Halla smiled bitterly at the idea of Finnan, daft with terror that she'd fled him and exposed his vile secret, manically searching and never finding. And how could he do her harm, once she returned in the morning? Whatever could he say, knowing that she despised him as much as he so obviously despised her, but knowing also that she'd kept his hideous secret?

Halla opened the door, listening at the top of the stairs. The hall, as she suspected, was silent, but it wouldn't be for long. Already a fire was roaring in anticipation of Lord Finnan's supper. Halla hurried down the stairs and slipped out the servants' entrance. The smell of roasting meat and a thick venison stew made her belly rumble with hunger. Hopefully Maukurz had saved some of the food she'd brought him. Either way, Blythe was visible in the rough-cut kitchen window, stirring a great cauldron. And Ailen was heading towards the herd with a halter and lead rope in his hand, to catch and bring in what horses needed to spend the night stabled.

It was a shame she couldn't bring Silverfire, but that would ruin her plan. She fully intended to swear up and down she never left the property. Halla crept behind the stable then ran as fast as she could through the tall grasses of the high meadow.

_I have lost my mind. If anyone knew I was going to him_… What might be the price to pay for tending to an enemy such as Maukurz? Might it even be considered treason? If Halla's people had been left unaided, his kind would have run wild over Rohan entire, until every Man was rubbed out and every woman… Halla shivered to think of it. Yet the Uruk-hai had been almost entirely destroyed, and Rohan was victorious, and like the beautiful, wild wolf Uncle Aelfred had shot down for no reason other than that it was what it was born to be, Maukurz would surely die without her help. And this time, her uncle was not there to stop her.

_But an Uruk-hai! _Halla thought, climbing over the rock wall that bordered her land. Halla could not deny the fact that she was strangely drawn to Maukurz, in a far more essential, physical way than any wolf might lure her. And it was far more than just a desire to heal. The Uruk-hai had been a terror and a nightmare to her people for so long, Halla could not _help_ but be curious about Maukurz. She felt her belly cramp in anticipation of seeing him again. She could not understand _what_ it was, exactly, that pulled her, she only knew she was helplessly drawn, like a moth to flame.

Halla's life had been ordered and neat and proper for so long, something about wildness beckoned her like a bonfire in the darkness. Maukurz could crush her with his hands… yet his powerful, truly magnificent body was broken, unable. It was thrilling to be in his presence, to hear his low, spine-chilling growls, to know for certain how much he desired her, but couldn't take her… Halla was imprisoned in a cold marriage devoid of passion and tightly laced in the appearance of propriety, and Maukurz was wild wind in her hair. As a virginal young girl she couldn't name it or describe it, but in her deepest self she understood that everything about Maukurz promised a frenetic, uncontrollable passion that would give no quarter to false modesties or repressions.

The dark shadows of the forest closed in around her. Halla had not considered how frightening the forest would be at night. A daughter of the open plain, Halla saw demons and monsters behind every twisting tree, in every blackened gulch. Though the rising moon was near full, light was dismal and scarce. Halla carefully climbed the rocky path toward the river ford as silently as she could, and still her footsteps were treacherously loud. As injured as he was, Halla hurried towards Maukurz, sure that nothing roaming in the darkness would dare attack an Uruk.

_But what if he's not there?_

Halla was gripped by fear. If Maukurz had managed to crawl away, or if his fellows had found him, she would be alone, deep in the forest as it went to shadow. Halla almost turned back. Only the thought of what was waiting for her at home kept her going, up the trail and towards the running river, deeper and deeper into darkness.

As soon as she approached the water, she heard her name called in harsh, low tones. Deep relief—and excitement—washed through her. She lifted the skirt of her dress and picked her way through the fast shallow water.

"Halla stop…"

She froze, icy water washing over her boots, afraid once more.

"Come slowly now," Maukurz murmured, his voice strong and low, nearly spellbinding. Halla crossed the river.

"I can't see you!"

"Here," Maukurz said. His voice dropped into a warm, rolling purr. As she got closer, she made out his form, and she hurried over the last distance between them. "Slow," he reminded her, smiling. His sharp white fangs flashed in the darkness.

Halla hesitated, and as she did she turned her gaze just enough to see the wolf standing but ten paces away from her. She took a loud, panicked breath and the wolf growled. Maukurz held out his hand, and Halla flew to the blanket. Maukurz's purr deepened as he dropped his heavy arm over her shoulders, and drew her into his warm space. "You've made him anxious now."

Halla, breathless and engulfed in Maukurz's heat, could only stare at the wolf, wondering when it would attack.

"That is a challenge, Halla. Look away. Unless you want to fight him."

"He will kill us…"

"Quiet," Maukurz breathed. "I like wolves. Want to see something?"

"Yes…" Halla returned, astounded.

Maukurz reached slowly into one of the saddlebags and ripped a piece of venison. He stretched his long arm out and murmured, "_Skaat-lat tul, krankluk-gaz."_

Slowly, the wolf came forward, sniffing the air. Halla gripped the neck of her cloak, thrilled. The dark grey wolf was just a breath away from her now, filling the air with a strong pungent smell, like a dog but a thousand times more acrid. Fangs gleamed in the darkness as it stretched its neck and lightly nipped the meat from the Uruk's hand.

"_Udludhu…_" Maukurz purred, reaching his hand around the gaping maw and stroking the wolf between the ears, on the face, running his hand over the shaggy throat. He looked down at Halla. "Want to touch him?"

Halla nodded, breathless.

"Go slow, but no… no fear. No wait."

Halla looked sideways to Maukurz's golden eyes, incredulous.

"Go on," he told her, grinning, jutting his sharp chin a little to the wolf.

Halla raised her arm slowly, the way she'd approach an unsteady horse. She could believe she was in a dream when her fingers touched, then stroked the soft, strong, warm fur. She laughed softly, breathlessly, and became bolder, caressing the wolf. It seemed that the beast _enjoyed_ her touch. But why not? Didn't her horses like affection? Underneath the thrill, the same peace was there as with any animal she'd ever connected with. She drew her hand back, glowing with delight.

"_Ukh-lat!"_ Maukurz called gently, and the wolf turned and ran into the night.

Halla watched in shock, thrilled again when the wolf howled in the distance, and his howl was returned by his far-off pack mates. Only once the wolf was long gone did Halla again feel the Uruk's arm around her. If he drew her any closer she'd be pressed against the side of his thick body. Halla caught her breath, feeling how hot he was. She wondered if in fact he _was_ strong enough to pin her down, now that she had run right into his arms!

"Maukurz…" she murmured tightly. She heard and felt him inhaling her, purring low once more. Dizzy and anxious, she slipped away from him, desperately relieved he didn't hold her. She glanced furtively at his dark abdomen, completely flat and cut into tight muscles, her bandages loose and soft and pale in contrast. A fine lace of heat and blood wove over Halla's skin, and her breath fluttered.

"Don't go," he said quickly.

Breathing hard and eyeing him warily, Halla nodded. "How… how did you do that? With the wolf?"

"Told you. I like wolves."

"Yes…" Halla laughed in disbelief. "So do I. But I can't make them come. I can't _pet_ them."

"You just did," Maukurz reminded her. He explained, "The wolf came because he smelled blood, he smelled hurt. He thought better of fighting when he met me, knew he would die first. Then I kept him close. Got tired of being _alone._"

Halla grew somber again. "I am sorry for that. I was kept away. You still have food, I see." She swallowed now, and got to the point. She looked at Maukurz, his wild face shadowed in darkness, some fell brightness in his eyes. Halla felt her knees weaken. She had to look for her voice. "You said you would help me, because I helped you."

"I did?"

She caught her breath, and realized he was teasing her. "Ye—yes. But you might have been delirious..."

Maukurz smiled, a slight, quite wolfish smile. "Go on. Ask me."

"I need to stay here tonight. I need you…" she ducked her head. "I need you to look out for me."

He got very quiet, and Halla looked up. He was staring at her even _more_ intently, if that was possible.

"I need to trust you tonight," she told him. "You understand me? Or I will go right now."

"You ran away from him," Maukurz said in a rush. "_Pushdug _horse boy."

"I'm not talking about it." Halla frowned under the shadow of her hood. "What did you call him?"

"No worse than he calls me."

Maukurz slowly, _gracefully_, lowered his body, his muscles rippling in the shadows as he lay down. He rested his head on his clasped fingers. He trained a frightfully captivating glance on her, and she had the strongest feeling he was deeply pleased. "You are not his. You are here now. Don't ever go back."

Halla sighed heavily. "I wish I didn't have to." She pushed her hood back, pulled her long braid around self-consciously and began to comb it out with her fingers. "I can't just run _off_, Maukurz. I am married, properly. Our land is joined. Our marriage is recorded in the Golden Hall, the hall of our King. It would be a scandal—"

Maukurz jolted up, getting halfway before he grit his jaw furiously and pushed his pained body the rest of the way, turning to her as much as he could without jerking his leg. He pointed a clawed finger at her lip. "What… is… that?"

Halla drew back, frightened at his intensity. She flushed with shame, realizing he saw where Finnan had hit her. How could she have known he would see her bruised mouth in the dim moonlight? "It's nothing," she replied, eyes filling with tears.

"He hit you! _Khurub-izg barztab-l__ủ__t!"_

Halla went white with fear, seeing for the first time what Maukurz would be at his full strength. Seeing how very _little_ he was bound by his own pain. What else might he do, if he wanted it bad enough? What would he do when recovered a little more? _Dear Bema, what have I done coming to him? Letting him know me?_

"Halla…" he growled, "Don't be afraid. I want to hurt _him, _not you, _taar __ậ__mbal._ Why would he hit you? Where is the pleasure in it, to hit female who cannot fight back? Bite yes, taste, scratch… But hit? Make fight with one who cannot fight? _R__ủ__k-goth glob, nariistat amol gorgulbat sharlob!"_

"What did you just say?" Halla asked, flushing at the words _bite _and _taste_. The fast, harsh, rolling sound of his dark language was exotic to her. "Say… say it again, tell me what it means."

Maukurz narrowed his eyes. "_R__ủ__k-goth glob, nariistat amol gorgulbat sharlob? _It means…"

"Tell me…" Halla implored.

Maukurz grunted. He breathed in the air, and for some reason tilted his head curiously. He caught her eyes with that penetrating gaze and repeated slowly, "I said, your fool horse lord don't know how to make use of a woman."

Halla was sure she'd burst into flames. She backed away from Maukurz a little more, and lifted her long pale hair off her neck in hopes the cool wind would calm her. Such things were not properly discussed! And surely it was beyond scandalous to speak of it… to speak of it with an Uruk! Yet were those not the very chains—propriety and silence—that kept her in her prison? If it could be talked about, perhaps Finnan would have told her the truth from the beginning!

"You know I don't lie," Maukurz taunted her.

Halla sighed and shook her head. "You don't lie. It is no marriage. He can't… Couldn't… Maukurz, I am still a maid. No one knows but me and my husband, who loves someone else."

Maukurz frowned. "I don't know _maid_, and I don't know _love._ Those words… were not used in Isengard."

"A maid," Halla repeated softly, mortified yet desperate to confess the truth of her marriage to someone, even Maukurz. "A virgin. As if I was not married at all. You don't understand anything I'm saying, do you?"

He shook his head slowly, though there was a hungry light being born in his eyes, as if he was scenting a cooking feast. Halla bit her lip, seeking words she had no comfort or familiarity with. She broke away from his gaze and said, "My husband has never… touched me as a husband should. I could not… could not be pregnant, since he has never… No Man, ever, has. Touched… me. It is shameful for me. You understand that?"

_Oh, Bema of the Forest! _Halla could not fail to see that Maukurz was aroused again, and he didn't care to hide it, nor did his long leather breechcloth, his only garment, do an adequate job. Halla shielded her eyes with her hand. Having never properly seen a man's organ, Halla had nothing to compare against, nothing to prepare her for the shocking sight of Maukurz. Like the rest of him, that part seemed unduly large and thick and strong, and Halla cringed in fear, closing her eyes.

"I understand," Maukurz purred, his voice and growl as hot and rich as melting butter. "I like this. _Skaatlat-dhog Maukurz, lagubadz-izg sharlobfiin-duthurz…_"

Halla gasped, shuddering. "All right, I don't think I _want_ to know what you said this time. Don't…" Halla swallowed her dry tongue and whispered, "Please… You are frightening me!"

"I do much more than frighten," Maukurz murmured, as if he had reached deep into Halla's secret places and read their truths.

She was unable to look at him, but she felt him pulling himself towards her. _He will rape me, as soon as he gets close enough to grab me!_ Terror shot through her and she leaped to her feet. She wished very badly that she'd had the sense to bring a knife, how could she have forgotten it? "Stay away from me! I will go and never come back!"

Her words had the effect of a bucket of ice water doused over his head. Maukurz groaned and lay back on the blanket. "Don't go—" he gasped, covering his face with his hands. "Shit, Halla, please don't go. I can't—Can't help it, but I need _you_ more than I need… fucking you, and I don't know why."

"What? Maukurz… what are you saying?"

He rolled his head to her, a sneer on his lips that was so fiercely erotic Halla almost fainted. "I don't _know_ what I say. I don't know what I feel! I want you… always… I want… to be… husband to you. Have you every day. Keep you safe, no fear. Need no other woman, ever again. Only you. How can I say…? No more War… no more life for Maukurz… Until Halla came. I want to _keep_ you, stay together with you always. I can live this way. Maybe the only way worth living now."

"You are in love with me?" Halla whispered, sinking to her knees. "You don't even _know_ me…"

Maukurz laughed harshly. "Blind me, I will find you in a forest of _sharlobu_. Tell me you belong to _pushdug_ and it feels like dying. Don't know _in love._ Know I want you forever. I want _all_ of you."

Halla clutched her throat, shaking her head. _This isn't happening! This is impossible! It should be Finnan saying these things…_ But Halla knew that she would never, ever want to hear such words from Finnan, that time had passed. She took a long look at Maukurz, aware for the first time that she was drinking in the sight of him. Horrified with herself, but unable to stop. Terrified that he would hurt her, rape her even, yet unable to leave him, and not for fear of the darkness either. Yet the sense of free-fall was too much for Halla to manage. She searched desperately for something to say that would restore order and propriety… and yet not push Maukurz away.

"I do not… _belong_ to my husband. I never will. But I'm not yours, either… Truthfully, you terrify me. What you want _terrifies _me. Even with a Man I would be fearful, and you are… so much more. I do not wish to leave you, Maukurz… But we… We must not speak of this anymore."

Maukurz sighed, closed his eyes tightly. He nodded agreement, though Halla had no idea what went on behind that dark, wild, angular face. "What… do you wish… to speak of?"

"Tell me… tell me about wolves. Tell me you will call one for me again, so that I can touch it."

"Wolves…" Maukurz repeated, his breath shaky. "Very well. Anything… anything you like, I will tell you. Only stay with me."

* * *

_Skaat-lat tul, krankluk-gaz.—_Come here, little brother.

_Udludhu – _Easy

_Ukh-lat! – _Go!

_Khurub-izg barztab-l__ủ__t! –_ I will rip his throat out!

___taar __ậ__mbal_ - most beautiful (high + beauty)

_R__ủ__k-goth glob, nariistat amol gorgulbat sharlob! _– Fool horse-lord, doesn't know how to use a woman!

_Skaatlat-dhog Maukurz, lagubadz-izg sharlobfiin-duthurz…_ _- _Come to Maukurz, I will break open new* clean woman

*new in this case comes from _fiin_, implying youth and newness together, rather than a new sword or something such.


	6. Chapter 6

"You say you are unhappy without war," Halla murmured sleepily in the late hours of the night. "Why? Were you not afraid to die? So many died…"

"Afraid?" Maukurz asked. "No. So much fighting, I did not stop to think of losing or dying."

Lying on his back just out of reach, Maukurz put his hands on either side of his eyes, tunneling his vision to show her how he felt at war. He pointed two fingers together into the abstract distance of the dark canopy of trees overhead, then returned his hand to the side of his face. "There is my target. March to it, run to it, fight for it. Take it. No other thoughts, no cares, nothing more important. After victory… very sweet time. Many rewards, most of all for top fighters."

"So… you fought for rewards?"

"Yes, part way. And I follow orders." Maukurz became excited then, rolling onto his side, propping up on an elbow despite his pain. He grinned wistfully and told her, "But fighting is reward too, Halla. All goes quiet—soft—and slow. Like… Like snow falling, crushes sound, wraps it up quiet. I can see my enemy: his shoulder moves just a little before he swings his sword, tells me which way to attack, to block. I can smell: he is afraid, I come harder. He is too sure, too full of battle-fever, I pretend to stumble, let him swing, cut his belly out. Cut his leg out. Take his head. Then choose the next one to take down. Look out for Men who are the same, loving battle. Those are the best to fight." His smile faded and he shook his head. "Now no more fights. No more… _nariist-izg amol ghashnat…_ When all know you have fought well, and all say your name in proud way?"

Halla blinked in drowsy astonishment. "You mean glory? You long for glory?"

"_Akh_, maybe: glory. No more glory for Maukurz. Only shame. Crawl, hide, sneak-thief. Shit life, you see? Now I think of death. No fear for death now. Nothing else to do! No use for Maukurz. Makes pain here," Maukurz said, tapping his temple, drawing his hand to his heart, "and here."

Halla sighed, and Maukurz frowned. "You don't understand me?"

"I understand you, Maukurz. You are like… like one of the warriors in the old songs we sing, pining for battle and glory, traveling around the world looking for a war. I am sorry for you. Many Men are the same, loving battle as you said. But they have homes to return to…" Halla furrowed her smooth brow thoughtfully. "What about hunting? Do you hunt? There is much big game in the mountains. Wolves—though I love them—and bear and lynx… Wargs too, the old ones say. It is a good fight, to take down strong game. Hunting keeps a Man's mind at peace."

"_Akh,_ Halla. Yes, I hunt. But I have no weapons. My sword broke at Helm's Deep and Isengard's weapons were washed away by the time I got back. I only kill what I run down."

"Run down," Halla repeated unsteadily, flashes of torched roofs and running, screaming women in her mind. She banished those thoughts, and questioned Maukurz. "What do you mean run down?"

"Run, jump, catch…" Maukurz said, grinning. "I am faster than wolves, faster than deer. Faster than all but the best horse."

"That is quite fast," Halla said, smiling.

"_Akh_," Maukurz murmured, looking to her with bragging eyes. "Uruk-hai fast, Maukurz the fastest. But still…" he sighed. "I miss weapons. My sword, my bow."

Halla was falling asleep now, laying on Maukurz's blanket, bundled tight in her cloak. The moon was low in the west, and a few sips of Maukurz's well-rationed wine were working hard on her near-empty belly. Maukurz watched as her lovely clear blue eyes fluttered shut, and then opened again as she fought her sleep. "Can I trust you?" she asked softly. "Can I sleep… as I let you sleep, safe?"

"Trust me," Maukurz said, repeating her and beseeching her at the same time. He wasn't sure why, he couldn't find his bearings in this new world, but he was certain that if Halla trusted him, she would come back to him. And maybe one day she would run from her shitty horse boy and give herself to him instead, and he would have his _own_ _sharlob_, the most beautiful he'd ever seen.

Half asleep now, Halla murmured, "I will bring you… a good strong bow… You can be a hunter, and be happy again…" Her words trailed off in a sigh, and Maukurz inhaled deeply, smelling her warm breath, scented with raspberries and wine.

When he was sure she was asleep he exhaled hard, closing his eyes and gripping his scalp with his sharp claws. _Is she mad, sleeping beside me? Doesn't she know what I am? Now's my time…_

Maukurz reached out for her, and she was just out of his grasp. A deep shudder passed through him, leaving his body quivering with desire and his cock so stiff it might burst. The Master could not have devised a more perfect reward for Maukurz, combining the shining, fragile beauty he yearned for with a deep intoxicating scent that dug into his very core and held fast… and then leaving her sleeping beside him, without anyone in the world around to pull him off her once he got in!

_So why can't I do it?_

Only months ago, Maukurz would have relished the opportunity to ravish Halla where she lay. Hours would pass before he'd take his fill, when he would roll off of her, sweating and panting, and slick with blood and seed and sweat. Some of the younger ones he'd caught hadn't moved again, after he had finished with them. He had laughed at the foolish Uruks who had only wanted to kill. Rewards from Master had showered Maukurz, such a terror was he in the Westfold.

Yet this balmy night, in a dark forest of shadow and wolfsong, with his perfect reward asleep beside him, Maukurz could do nothing more than look! He tried to understand what was missing, but all he knew was that since his home had been destroyed, _nothing_ had made sense. Since the Master's voice had abandoned him, Maukurz had known nothing but confusion and shame. The only peace he'd found was in Halla's presence, and he was desperate to keep her close.

Maukurz was tortured for hours. If he took her, he would know perfect satisfaction this very night. But he could not impose her face on the twisting, tortured bodies of his victims. He made a good effort to, holding his cock hard in his fist, but the thought of Halla sweating fear and screaming in pain repelled him so thoroughly he almost lost his erection. He gasped and grit his jaw, and closed his eyes again, recalling the feeling of her small fingers smoothing along his flesh, feeling for injuries. He saw her tending to him, healing him, touching him gently. Saw her smiling, her eyes shining as she spoke to him. _You can be happy again_, she murmured, making him wonder if he'd ever been happy at all.

_I don't want to hear her screaming_, he thought._ Well maybe… maybe a little scream, maybe a few sharp little cries… And then she wraps her long, pale legs around my hips and calls me by my name…_ _She moans when I come inside her, she begs me to take her…_

Maukurz knew he could make a white-skin beg. He'd done it enough times in the whelping pits. When he buried his face between their legs, when he had teased his tongue and his sharp teeth over the soft parts there, and over their breasts, plucking at their ripe, treacherously swollen nipples… They had begged him then, begged him to stop and begged him to go farther, hating themselves for it, hating him for doing it, arousal and shame and fear all twisted together in a delicious brew. Maukurz had discovered such thrilling games fairly early on, with nothing but time on his hands and a list of females to impregnate. He had played with them, like a satiated cat would play with a mouse before killing it. The hot, lusty memories of the pits grabbed him mercilessly, and Maukurz lost himself.

It was a long while before Maukurz caught his breath. A long while until he was sure, absolutely _sure_ he wouldn't grab for Halla as she slept. A long while until he could trust himself, looking at her delicate face, her full, bruised, berry stained mouth. Tasting her in every breath he took. Her hair was loose now, paler than gold and more shining than steel, rippling over her body like bright raiment. _It would be easy if all I wanted was a fuck,_ he thought. _But I want to fall asleep in her arms every last night. I want to know that I am filling her belly with food and keeping her safe each day. I want to watch her body change, once my whelp is inside her, instead of getting sent on to the next one._

Maukurz could go on for hours, thinking of the strange new ways he wanted Halla. But his Master, who had abandoned him in defeat like a torn tunic or a broken sword, had never shown him a way to relieve _those_ needs. Drunk from Halla's presence, Maukurz shuddered again and closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep, hoping against hope that he didn't dream of anything that would make him hurt her this night.

* * *

Halla woke to birdsong and soft breeze. She opened her eyes slowly and saw Maukurz sprawled on his back, his strong arm over his brow as if he'd fallen asleep fighting off some invisible enemy. Halla gasped softly, and assured herself that she was still tightly wrapped in cloak and gown. She was surprised to see a good part of the blanket wrapped over her as well, as if she'd grown cold in the night and the Uruk had covered her… and done no more.

It was not long after dawn, but Halla knew she had to go soon. She sat up, stretching, and contemplated waking Maukurz. She looked at him again, and lost her breath at the sight of his beautiful body. She let her eyes wander from his thick, strong neck down over his broad shoulders, across his hard chest, following the narrowing line of his flat abdomen as it ran into his powerful hips. His thighs were thick and long, and Halla blushed to see the half-hard swelling of his cock beneath his breechclout. Alone and unwatched, she did not look away. She wanted more than anything to take that big fleshy member in her hand. Would the skin there be soft? How heavy would it be? _Would he feel it if I ran my finger along it?_ Halla wondered how Maukurz differed from a Man, and then laughed softly at herself, because she knew nothing of Men either.

Growing ashamed of her wantonness, Halla tore her gaze away, looking instead at the sharp planes of his smooth dark face. Even in his sleep, his breath rumbled. Halla leaned close to him, listening to that deep purr, feeling the heat of his body. He breathed her in and groaned softly, turning his head towards her. Halla backed away. "Maukurz…" she murmured. "Maukurz!"

The feral golden eyes opened at once, blinking, a deep rumble rolling through his chest as he took her in. His lips spread into a smile and he purred her name. "Halla…"

"I must go, Maukurz. It's later than I wanted to be gone. My servants will be awake."

He frowned and pushed himself up. "No, Halla, don't go… Didn't you sleep safe?"

He was so positively devastated that Halla took pity on him, and for a brief moment felt no fear at all. She reached out with quivering fingers and cupped his sharp cheek in her hand. Maukurz moaned softly, closing his eyes. He turned his head so that his lips—surprisingly soft—were against her thumb. Halla thought her heart might explode. His eyes flickered open, and he looked at her with a heavy-lidded, desire filled gaze. He parted his lips, flicked his tongue against her thumb, and then grazed it with his teeth, pinching her flesh.

Halla drew her hand back as if he'd burned it. She was dizzy all over again, unable to catch her breath. "I—I must go. I will come back as soon as I can. Do you have food for today?"

Maukurz's chest rose and fell hard. "Food? Yes. A little."

"Then I will see you when I can," she told him, achingly unhappy to leave him. She stood up on shaky legs just before him, looking down as his eyes ran up her body and met her face. "Goodbye, Maukurz," she breathed.

Halla made to turn, but Maukurz caught her cloak and gown in his fist. She looked down on him with wild, frightened eyes. His gaze hooded with dangerous desire, Maukurz tugged the fabric away from her body. He slipped his other hand beneath her gown, gripping her thigh just above the knee. As Halla stood stone still—unable even to scream—Maukurz ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, holding her eyes captive in his feral golden gaze. She nearly fainted when his hot hand slipped between her legs, gripping her sex hard, pushing it open like the soft, tight petals of a flower. Halla shuddered a breath and almost collapsed right there, surrendering to the throbbing pleasure of his touch, a pleasure she had never imagined.

"Don't give to _pushdug_," Maukurz growled, his breath rumbling deep in his chest, his middle finger pulsing firmly as it rubbed against her most sensitive place.

Thoughtless, melting, Halla shook her head. Maukurz grinned savagely, and yanked his hand away. Shockingly, he ran his fingers over his tongue, purring dangerously. Halla turned before she fainted, walking away on shaking legs, knowing Maukurz's hot eyes were on her as she disappeared into the forest.

Once on her property again Halla tore through the meadow, sending grasshoppers and butterflies both scurrying to safety. She saw Ailen in the field with one of the new foals, and Blythe leaving the kitchen with a tray of fresh loaves. She slipped around the backside of the stone and wood barn, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. She tipped her head to the sky and clutched her throat, sure that she was burning up and everyone would see. She could not begin to imagine what she would say to Finnan, though she was sure she had some plan.

_Enough! _ Halla thought anxiously. She took command of her shaking breath and smoothed her rumpled clothes, picked a stray pine needle from her unbound hair. She realized with dismay that she'd left her ribbon in the woods. Halla braided her hair loosely and quickly, and then she stepped back into the growing sunlight.

She'd not made it ten paces when Finnan dashed out of the house. Halla licked her lips as her husband saw her and went wide-eyed.

He was in worn clothes as well, good brown britches and a green jacket embroidered with thread of gold. Yet the fabric was crushed, wrinkled, as if he'd fallen asleep in the hall waiting for her. Halla refused to hang her head as she approached him, meeting him with a dry mouth and a daring gleam in her eyes.

"_Where_ did you go?" Finnan asked in a low, urgent voice.

"I… I was in the barn," she told him tremulously. Would he say more? Halla could hardly think, and she prayed he would not question her further. At that moment, Blythe was coming round from the servant's entrance. She bobbed them both a polite curtsey, and continued on to the kitchen.

Finnan took ahold of her upper arm roughly as he turned about, bringing her towards the house.

"_Take_ your hand off me," Halla hissed, stomping in place, "or I will scream, so help me."

Finnan released her immediately. "I must talk to you!" he hissed, panicked.

"Talk?" Halla demanded. "Or slap my face again?"

"Halla, I am _sorry._ Please, let me explain things to you. Come to the hall, sit by the fire. You must be frozen stiff."

Disarmed by the sudden courtesy, Halla nodded agreement. She followed Finnan to the hall, wondering how flushed her cheeks were, or how he could ever imagine she was _cold._ Then she had a sudden fear that he would beat her once he had her in the house, and she wished herself back in the woods, lying beside Maukurz and listening to the forest come awake.

Halla stepped into the darkness, and the heavy oak door thumped shut behind them. She stood awkwardly, a stranger in her own hall. Finnan went to the dying fire and stoked it, throwing on two fresh logs. He dragged a seat before the fire, then returned to Halla and extended his smooth white hand. When she refused to take it he bowed his head gracefully, and indicated the seat. Halla went where she was bid, sitting stiffly on the wooden stool, hands folded in her lap. She felt terribly like a little girl about to be scolded, and it was deeply uncomfortable.

He brought another stool over, placing it quietly across from her. Sitting decorously, leaning on his thighs. "Why did you flee last night? I came for you, as I told you I would."

Halla swallowed, and there was nothing there but dryness. She licked her lips. She stared to the fire and told him, "I did not wish for you to come!"

Finnan absorbed the blow in silence. Then he told her coolly, "You are my wife. I am within my rights to demand it."

"And was Edwyn here?" she asked sharply, glaring at Finnan. "Was he to wait in the hall, as you did your _duty?_"

Finnan blanched. "Don't… don't bring him into this. I am speaking about our marriage."

"Don't bring him into it?" Halla nearly screamed. At the pinched, furious look on Finnan's face she lowered her voice to a hissing whisper. "You've already done that for me! He will always be in it! If I live another hundred _years_, I will never forget that you married me preferring him!"

"Halla, I don't want war in my very home!" Finnan cried desperately. "I have wronged you, I admit it, but I _do_ wish to have peace here! What can I do to restore myself in your good graces?"

Halla shook her head tightly, unable to think of a single thing save releasing her, which he could not do without shame.

Finnan closed his eyes, appalled. He dropped his head in his hand, sighing deeply. "Halla…"

Halla was amazed to find herself pitying him, but it didn't change anything. "You have condemned me," she said quietly. "If we are the best of friends from this day forward, you have still condemned me to a life without love."

Finnan laughed breathily, wryly. "What can a little girl like you know of _love_?"

Feeling Maukurz's hand on her again, Halla gasped, "Perhaps I know more than you think!"

He arched his eyebrows as if readying a threat, and then he deflated, and shook his head. "Forgive me; that was unkind. Hear me, Halla… I had a surprise for you, and I meant to tell you that… that morning after. When I was last with the King, for Theoden King's funeral, I was invited to present you after the wedding. Tomorrow a seamstress should arrive, with gowns I ordered for you with your aunt's help, long before the wedding. In two days time we shall ride to Edoras, and join King Eomer's court. I would have you be the most beautiful woman in the city. And here…" Finnan stood, drawing something flashing and gold from the pocket of his coat. "I was going to give this to you last night, but you chose the company of horses and barn cats instead."

"Wait... what did you say?" Halla had hardly heard him. Her mind-and her body-were back in the woods with Maukurz. She crossed her legs tightly, which had the opposite effect of what she had intended. A ripple of pleasure flushed hot through her body.

Finnan looked at her curiously. "I _said_ I have ordered gowns for you to wear when we venture to Edoras. We leave the day after tomorrow."

_Leaving for Edoras? How can I go? I can't leave him!_ Halla sat in frozen horror as Finnan crossed the room. He stopped before her, holding up a thick gold necklace with chunks of amber—glowing like Maukurz's eyes—set in oval gold fastings. She eyed the necklace in dismay.

Finnan laughed nervously, surprised. "Does it not please you? Do you not like fine things?"

"I—I do… I thank you, my lord…"

Halla squeezed the tears from her eyes as Finnan circled behind her. She cringed as he lifted her long braid out of the way, and wrapped the necklace around her throat. A stray, betraying tear fell over her cheek as he fastened the clasp. Halla touched her fingers to her throat, feeling the cold dead weight of the jewels. Her trembling fingers knocked the tear away just in time, as Finnan came before her with a wide smile on his face.

"There now!" Finnan exclaimed, relieved and eager to be away. "You look stunning, as I knew you would. Make sure to tell Blythe to pack anything from home that you might wish to bring, we shall load it all on a wagon. There. Are you not excited for our trip?"

"Very, my lord," Halla whispered, her heart breaking.

* * *

_nariist-izg amol ghashnat…_-I don't know how to say...


	7. Chapter 7

Finnan did not claim to understand women. He had avoided his own battle-axe of a mother for most of his young life, and he had been a soldier in an exclusive world of Men for twelve years, since he was a quiet, studious lad of thirteen. Yet his gut nagged him as he walked away from his young wife. He had expected an ill-temper and harsh words, but what he had found was a girl with her head spinning in circles, as flustered as a filly put to bit and saddle for the very first time. And he was quite sure she did _not_ wish to travel with him.

_Perhaps she is afraid of me. I've not been fair or kind, though I give her such gifts that are supposed to make maids swoon for delight. She is new come to this manor, and now I bid her travel to the city, to the very hall of the king. That might be enough to bewilder any mere girl._

He comforted himself with this thought as he walked to the stable. But by the time he was in the saddle of his roan war-horse, trotting out to inspect the rock walls edging his vast estate, Finnan realized that something about this explanation just didn't fit. He had seen that look, such as Halla wore, in a pair of bright blue eyes before, yet he couldn't for the life of him remember where.

_I shall have to keep a closer watch on her,_ Finnan thought. _Perhaps spend some time with her, though I'd planned to hunt with Edwyn today… And tomorrow I must prepare for our trip. But once we're on the road together we will talk. She seats a horse well, and can ride with me at least part of the way. Then we will talk, and see if there's some… some common ground to build on. _

_And at least I won't have to go to her bed until we are on friendlier terms. She's made it clear she doesn't welcome it, and neither do I._

This pleased Finnan, and he spurred his horse to a gallop, crossing the wide, sunlight field, delighting in the speed and freedom of his ride. Yet once again, as he drew his roan charger to a walk, Finnan thought again about Halla's hard shining eyes, and he felt a deep, unexplainable unease seeping through his bones.

* * *

As soon as Finnan was gone, Halla opened a door off the side of the hall that she had never tried before. Clutching a silver candelabra, Halla peered inside Finnan's small but well stocked armory. She was greeted with sharp remembrance of the War: Finnan's suit of leather and bronze scale armor was on a standing mannequin before her. His crested helm stared at her with sightless eyes, and Halla felt pangs of guilt.

_What am I doing? The War isn't four months over!_

The marriage—and the entire way it was arranged—was hard on Halla, but she couldn't deny that for all of her life, the sight of a warrior of Rohan was most desirable. Life would depend on it. And Halla couldn't have dreamed of a better husband, but that was all on the surface! Finnan, out of uniform at the very least, was like a cold fish against Halla's skin. And her enemy… She dared not think of him too much, nor the inexplicable longing she felt for him.

Halla looked pointedly away from the grim warrior's visage before walking to a wall strung with bows. There were at least thirty of the largest size, graceful short composite bows cut for a mounted archer. Halla took one from the rack, and could not manage to string it. It would do well. She snatched a full quiver of arrows, adding several more for good measure, slinging the quiver on her back. Halla slipped out of the armory and closed the door behind her.

It was maddening to go through her day. There was nothing for her to truly do, since Blythe handled the basic household tasks, and Halla couldn't discipline her mind to ledger books or candle-making. Finnan returned from inspecting the northern portion of his estate and took a quick meal in the kitchen. In the afternoon she took a bath in lavender water. By the time she'd dressed in a spring green gown with a pale pink ribbon to lacing the front through bronze eyelets, Finnan had galloped down the lane on a black hunter, and was disappearing into the eastern sea of grass.

Halla had decided not to ride, as it would draw unnecessary attention. She was uncomfortable lying to Blythe, but saw no way around it. Halla asked for a tray of roasted meats, good fresh bread, and two apples. She rolled all of that into a linen towel, ruining it, slung the quiver over her shoulder, and crept back towards the cool forest. She had left her long hair down to dry in shining waves.

As ever since she had met Maukurz, the walk seemed desperately long. By the time she saw him through the rich green leaves, he had already known she was coming. He eased himself back against a tree trunk—near shredded by his claws—and watched her come, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Halla had no idea what to say to him when she arrived. He was so _beautiful._ A flush spread over her cheeks. Maukurz laughed softly, his eyes dancing. His ability to see through her laid Halla bare, but instead of feeling vulnerable, she felt as if she would never be lonely again. None of it made any sense, but that fact did nothing to lessen the avalanche of feeling that rocked Halla as she gazed down on the bewilderingly attractive Uruk.

"I want to give you this," Halla said, kneeling before him, setting the bundle of food and quiver down, then holding out the bow.

Maukurz snatched the bow as soon as it was offered, so excited he nearly twirled it in his hands. His grin was wide now, and he made that low, rumbling growl Halla had come to associate with his pleasure. Clasping the end of the bow between his thighs, Maukurz bent and strung it with ease.

"You can hunt properly now," Halla told him with quiet satisfaction, sitting back on her shins.

Maukurz looked up at her sharply, gazing at her for a long moment with unreadable eyes. He was astonished that she would arm him—asking nothing in return—and he had no idea how to express it. Halla wondered why he looked sad and joyful at the same time. Maukurz looked away, smiling again, running his fingers appreciatively over the tight recurve. "This is good," he commented. He turned at the hips and aimed into the distance, pulling the taunt, heavy string back with ease. "I can use this. But it needs tightening. Bring a knife?"

Halla shook her head.

Maukurz stared in surprise. He set the bow down. "You come to see me, and bring no knife?"

"What could I do with it," she asked softly, "if you truly wanted to hurt me?"

Maukurz took a deep breath. He reached out for Halla and took her by the wrist. Her heart thudded and galloped away as he drew her against his solid, hot body. She knelt between his legs, shaking as his arms closed around her. His hands gripped her gently, so big he could nearly wrap them around her rib cage. He lay his face against her round, firm breasts. Halla moaned softly, unsteadily to feel the heat of his mouth through the thin fabric of her gown, as he teased her with his breath, his lips, a gentle grazing bite over a swollen nipple. Maukurz slid his hands up into her hair and cradled her face, drawing it down against his.

"So small," he breathed. "I won't hurt you, _fiil gaz_." Maukurz trailed his claws down her arching back, along her spine. She gasped as he gripped her backside and drew her down on his lap.

His cock was burning and steely hard, pressing against her belly. His parted lips ran along her jawline; he buried his mouth against her neck and shoulder, running his teeth lightly against the soft, sensitive skin there. Halla was a moment from swooning, a yearning, aching pleasure spreading from between her legs through her entire body.

"I _can't…_" she whispered, feeling his hands pushing her gown up over her hips.

"You mine or his?" Maukurz murmured, a firm demand in his voice. His hands cupped her bare backside and drew her tight against him, setting fire to her body. His cock was against her sex now, pulsing and thick, terrifying and thrilling her at once.

"_Yours…_" Halla sighed, melting in his hands, one of which he drew over his tongue and slipped between her legs again. His touch was quickly overwhelming; he deftly hunted signs of her mounting pleasure, hunted her weaknesses and assaulted with tender ruthlessness.

Halla was so ensnared that it seemed a dizzy, dreamlike haze had settled over her. She felt the Uruk lift her but had no conscious thought of what he was doing, only that she wanted him, wanted to be as close to Maukurz as possible; she wanted the desperate ache between her legs to be soothed, the head-spinning thirst quenched. His deep, growling purr seemed to rumble through her own body. His hands, gripping her backside again, pulled her open and the swollen round tip of his cock pressed at her, expertly seeking, pushing against her inflamed body. For a moment the pleasure was almost too much to bear, and then the Uruk's hands closed on her hips and brought her down.

White hot pain tore cruelly into Halla's sweet dream, drawing a shriek from her. The pain was awful, tearing and burning, but his hands were a cage of iron around her hips, trapping her as he stuffed the punishing stiffness of his cock deeper inside of her. "Stop, stop!" she cried, pushing against his chest, suddenly so terrified she thought she'd vomit._ Oh please, oh please…_

Instantly she was released, gently lifted, freed from torment and cradled in warmth. His hands were smoothing her hair as he murmured unsteadily in her ear, "Shh… I know, I know, I'm sorry…"

"That was horrible!" she cried, shaking in Maukurz's arms. She felt something hot and wet slip between her thighs, and she realized that it was the blood Aunt Hilda had told her to expect. Halla was no longer a maid. "How did it turn so awful? Everything felt so _good_..."

Maukurz was shaking, unaccustomed to denying himself so sharply. "I... I think... I think I went in too fast. And you're smaller than I thought. But I know what to do... if you let me try again?" He tried not to pant in front of her, but the heat in his body was making him dizzy, and his privates ached in protest. Yet strangely, her consent was somehow just as important as his relief. He didn't want Halla's tears, he wanted her to grab his face again, he wanted her to hold him; he'd never wanted these things before. Maukurz stroked her hair tentatively, and the touch calmed her._  
_

Halla tilted her face up to him, blinking tears from her eyes. "D'you think it can be better? I mean, it _must_ be lovely done right... But you are... you're... it's so very _big," _Halla said, blushing like a little girl.

Maukurz's head was spinning, his body so sensitive and needy that the soft breath of summer breeze was stimulating him. "I know what to do," he told her desperately. "I won't hurt you, I promised you. I know what to do now."

Halla reached up, compelled to touch his soft lips with her finger. Her fingertips strayed over the Uruk's sharp cheekbones and brushed over his temples. She looked deeply into Maukurz's golden eyes, inflamed with lust, but honest as well.

"I want you to have pleasure," he breathed, nodding slightly.

"I know," Halla replied. "Try... try again, if you are _sure_ it won't feel like that. It still hurts, even now!"

Maukurz sighed in relief. "I'm sure I won't harm you, _ambal-izub. _I... I would lie you down myself, but for this rotten leg. Lie on your back, _fiil gaz_. I swear you will be glad for it."

Halla gingerly climbed from Maukurz's lap, the burning between her legs strong. She on the brown woolen blanket, her gown bunched around her hips, her legs trembling. _He will stop if he hurts me more, he's proven it. And then I'll find a way to touch him that pleases him..._ Halla looked down at her pale thighs, pressed together protectively, a stain of red like crushed berries smeared between them. Her heart pounded with the audacity of what she'd done, giving her maidenhead to an Uruk warrior!

Maukurz smiled warmly at her, a flash of dark, devastating beauty, his fangs hinted at by his slightly parted lips. "You won't be frightened much longer," he assured her, lying carefully on his side. His hand slipped between her knees, and he gently pushed Halla's thighs apart. But rather than climbing on top of her, Maukurz lowered his mouth to the smear of blood on her thigh, sweeping his tongue gently across it. The touch was teasing and light, but everything about it-the closeness of his mouth to her sex, the gleam in his eyes as he flickered them to her, the very fact that he was tasting her _blood_-brought Halla to the edge of swooning once more. Now his mouth kissed-for that was all it could be called-slowly up her slender thigh. When he nipped that sensitive flesh with his teeth, Halla moaned and shivered, and Maukurz grinned wolfishly.

Her eyes were shut when the Uruk's hot, soft mouth pressed between Halla's legs. She gasped breathlessly as Maukurz kissed the hurt there, licking it gently away with a rough, well-schooled tongue. Maukurz kept a discrete eye on her, and paid careful attention to the quickening pace of her heart as he intensified his sweet attack, quickly learning and exploiting anything that gave the young woman pleasure. Nothing Halla had experienced thus far could have prepared her for the blissful fire that radiated through her body as Maukurz tasted her and thrilled her. Halla gripped her skirt in her hand, twisting it and moaning softly as pleasure returned in building, swelling waves. She could feel him _savoring _her, almost worshipfully, a heady pleasure of it's own. Maukurz's delight in fucking her with his mouth, his tongue, consuming her, all of it driving her wild with passion, brought Halla to ecstasy. Her hands reached down to grasp his coarse black hair, and she cried out with abandon as she experienced her first climax, an ecstasy that couldn't be put into words. Halla bucked and arched and twisted in a torture of bliss as Maukurz held her hips tightly, drinking from her body. She was dizzy and lost again as he rose up, sneering fiercely, a wildness in his eyes that was both terrifying and deeply erotic. Maukurz pinned her in with his strong arms, locking her in his gaze as his weight settled on her, his hot, brutally hard cock pressed against her again.

"Bema help me... I want you so _badly..._" Halla moaned.

"I _need _you now..." Maukurz confessed, and she nodded. Maukurz dropped to his elbows and took her face in his hands, holding her in his gaze as he entered her sopping wet sex slowly and carefully. Maukurz, overwhelmed, trembling, knew that he'd never felt anything so incredible-and so _wet_-with any of the women he'd ever had. _This_ was special. _This _was the only way for him, he knew, as the beautiful girl wrapped her arms around him. He sunk inside her as slowly as he could, a rough growl of consuming pleasure on his lips as he felt his cock splitting her tightness softly open.

Halla's eyes fluttered shut and her breath broke. Pain and pleasure swirled together, vying for dominance until Halla couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. His size was a torture of both, tearing and filling, bruising and deliciously caressing her deepest places. Even the ache of him, even the pain, thrilled Halla; when she didn't cringe or cry or pull away, Maukurz gave himself to her fully. She gasped his name with broken breath, plunging her hands into his long, loose mane, pulling his hair hard as he twisted his hips against hers and thrust deep and slow and hard inside her.

There was nothing else in the world but the two of them, locked together as if they would devour each other. Maukurz lost himself as Halla did, but what parts of him could form a semblance of thought was beyond amazed. She was _taking _him! He'd been sure he'd have to hold back, painfully, but the beautiful girl was desperate for him, her legs wrapped around him like in his fantasy, her body open to him as if she was his very own. He wanted to bite her, but satisfied himself pressing his lips to hers, running his tongue over her lips and inside her mouth; he delighted in watching her, lips parted and flushed, soft white neck exposed as she through her head back in pleasure. As if she felt him watching, Halla's brilliant blue eyes blinked open, and suddenly it was as if lightning had struck. A deep welling of tenderness seized Maukurz, and in that moment he knew he would gladly die for this woman: die to keep her, die to save her, die if she bid him to.

Halla didn't understand the sudden spring of emotion on Maukurz's entrancing Orcish face, but the compassion and love in her responded instantly. Maukurz had brought her to climax several times, and the frantic lust warmed into slow, loving passion. Halla took Maukurz's face in her hands, and the Uruk, who felt as if he was living in a long-cherished dream, shuddered and came with furious strength. Shaking and gasping for breath, Maukurz and Halla laced their hands instinctively. A moment later, Maukurz lowered himself gently and turned on his back. Halla slipped against him, laying her head on his hot hard chest. For a long while they lay still together, trying to catch their breath. They were both stunned, equally ignorant of the powerful thing their bodies had worked together: Halla, a virgin who could never have been told of such shattering pleasure, and Maukurz, who had never imagined that a woman would welcome him with such unbridled desire, never knowing that a woman's body could perform such miracles when she wished it to.

But then, smelling blood, Maukurz ran his fingers over her thighs. There was a good amount, and though he understood she would bleed this first time, it was still a disturbing thing to see. "Are you all right?"

"Oh my- _Yes..._" she gasped, smiling drowsily as she looked up at Maukurz. He grinned to see her eyes cloudy with satiated pleasure. She kissed his chest, kissed the brutal welts from a cruel whip that crept across his chest like the bare branches of a tree.

But then sadness crept into her scent. "What is wrong, my little beauty?"

"I just... I don't want to _leave _you,_"_ Halla murmured, her eyes flushing with tears. "I... I only ever want to be with you, Maukurz, but my life is not my own..."

"Stay with me," Maukurz plead in a whisper, running his hands over the contours of her beautiful ivory-peach body. _Stay with me, stay with me forever, you precious thing... How have you come to me, my perfect woman? _

Yet even as he said implored her to stay, Maukurz knew it was impossible. She was a _sharlob_, not an Uruk. She couldn't live under the open sky, forever exposed to the harshness of rain and wind and nighttime cold. Yes, he had had her, and in all fairness that should be enough. He should be content. But Maukurz knew with all his being that he would never be content with anything short of possessing this woman in every way a person could be possessed. Halla belonged to Maukurz now, and until he took her for himself, his life would be a torture.

"When my leg works again," he swore, "I will take you away. I will find a place where we can live together always."

Halla choked on a sob. "He would hunt me down," she whispered. "Not for love, he'd never love me… But for his honor."

"_He_ could never find me, unless I _wanted_ to be found," Maukurz murmured darkly. He tightened his grasp on Halla, thinking it _impossible_ that she would return to the horse lord. "I will kill him," Maukurz promised her. "_R__ủ__k goth_ will not trouble us much longer."

"No!" Halla gasped, sitting up enough to look into his deadly eyes. "You can't kill him! It isn't his fault that I love you, not him!"

Maukurz sighed, stroking his hand over her small, delicious body. He cupped her head in his hand and drew her back down to his chest, and she sank into him easily, a thing so delicious Maukurz thought that if he died right now, he would die the happiest body in the world.

"He wants to take me to see the king," Halla said bitterly. "The day after tomorrow."

"What? You can't go," Maukurz told her. He wished she would not even _speak_ of the horse boy, whose image defiled the perfect bliss Maukurz luxuriated in.

"I know I can't go," she whispered. "I must think of something."

Halla wrapped her arms around Maukurz, wanting to savor the little time they had left. She couldn't help her slow, silent tears. She was utterly, irrevocably in love with him, and no matter what he called it—or didn't—Halla knew he felt the same. Yet her heart was broken, knowing that such a love would never be tolerated in her world. And if anyone found out, it was quite likely that both of them would be hunted to the end of the earth and beyond.

* * *

_fiil gaz _– little bird


	8. Chapter 8

Maukurz couldn't fully understand what had happened to him, but he didn't fight it. For the first time in his short, brutal life, the constant fire in his belly and soul was quenched. The will to harm, always strong in Maukurz, was almost absent, replaced with something much more essential: a desire to keep this precious creature safe and warm and calm. There were other urges as well: after but a short rest, he wanted back inside her. He wanted her to be pregnant with his whelp. He wanted to mark up her smooth white flesh, filling the joint need of tasting her and showing her-and all the world—that she was _his._ Not for play this time, not for a few weeks, but until death. And he wanted the other male who had a claim to her to be safely dead and gone. Halla was too sweet to understand what a threat the horse boy was to them. But those things could wait. Halla lay peaceful in his arms, letting his hands wander where they would, and Maukurz realized, _this is what happy means. No one will take this from me._

Her fingers found his thick black mane, pulling a piece over his shoulder and teasing through the tangles. The gesture was deeply soothing, and Maukurz thought, _I wouldn't have done half of the things I have done, had I Halla from the beginning._

"Your hair is so tangled! I want to comb it and braid it," Halla murmured languidly.

"I never did that before," Maukurz told her, running his fingers through her incredibly soft, bright hair, looking at it shining against his dark hand. "Some of the warriors went in for that, did all types of crazy shit with their hair. I knew one swordslinger… shaved his head like a berserker, but for the top part. Put all that in long, thin braids."

"You don't like it?"

"No… Not that. Just wasn't a good idea to stand out for anything but making war. Fancy hair, messing with your weapon to make it more your own, anything said you were different. Got jumped or killed like that."

"Jumped or killed? By whom? Surely not the wizard!"

Maukurz laughed nervously. "No, not him. Everyone else. 'cept the _loburzu_. You don't really wanna be so special in Isengard. Not for nothin' but killing." _And a few other things, none of which I will _ever_ tell you._

"What's a lo—"

"You don't want to know, Halla," he said, brushing his fingers over her lips. "Don't even matter now."

She kissed his fingers, thrilling him. "But I want to know about your life," she said, smiling at him so innocently.

"Huh," Maukurz grunted, slightly surprised that she wanted to know. "Not much to tell. I was born in the pits like everyone else. Shaped up quick, learned what was expected-like, learned not to get whipped and clubbed for fucking up. Went off to fight… maybe a moon later. I'm a swordslinger, but I've had a bow in my hands too. When the other wizard came to the Deep and won the fight, I went left instead of right into the trees, and that's the only reason I'm here now. But I was a Captain, in the end. I guess that's something."

"Wait…" Halla said, pushing herself up on his chest. "You said… You were one _month_ old, and you were beaten, and whipped, and sent out to _fight_?"

Maukurz nodded, not understanding why that should be strange to her. He knew no more of Men than how to hurt them… and now, by some good luck he couldn't begin to understand, he had one of their women for his own, who had saved his life already. But Halla was baffled, and so he reminded her, "It was my Master, Halla, he has black, black magic. _Snaga_ Orcs have little whelps, so they said, that take some years to grow big. Uruk-hai come to life like this."

She was frowning now, and Maukurz had the strangest urge to smooth his thumb over that determined little crease between her neat brows, the one that came when she was thinking too hard or upset about something. He thought happily, _maybe my whelps on her will be little like Orc-kind, since I've no magic. Maybe I will watch them grow. _

"Your mother is like me," Halla realized, resting her cheek against his chest again. She fell quiet for a little while, and Maukurz could only hope she was not remembering things. But then she asked, "Did you know her?"

"I know no _mother, ashgaz._ I know war. Now I know Halla." Maukurz smiled and added, "And hunting, when this leg is fixed."

"I don't think it's fair what he did to you, that Saruman. I was told he was a great, great sage once, but he chose evil instead."

"Didn't do anything to _me_, Halla. Told you, I was a Captain. Got more meat and everything."

For some reason, this made Halla look sad. But yet she held him tightly, as if she was pleased with him. Maukurz sighed happily,returning the warm embrace. _Damn that feels good_, he thought. Suddenly, there was every reason to live again.

Then the wind brought bad smells: horses, Men, getting stronger. He could hear from far off the sound of iron shoes striking rocks, coming up the trail near the little ford. Maukurz groaned softly. "Trouble, Halla." He looked around quickly, content that the spot he was in was the best one, since he couldn't fight, and he surely couldn't run. He felt a flush of anger that he was reduced to such helplessness, and that anyone would interfere when he was finally enjoying himself again.

"What is it?" She half sat up, terrified.

"No no," he said quickly, drawing her back down smoothly and fast. "Lie here," he said, and she complied with wide, frightened eyes. He could sense her blood and heart quickening. "Just be still, no one will see you. White-skins can't see, smell, or hear for sh—as well as I can."

Maukurz covered Halla with the brown blanket. _I'm getting expert at gimping around_, he thought with black humor as he shifted his weight carefully, rolling onto his belly and turning about in the high, archaic ferns. He wished now he hadn't clawed the nearby trees up venting his rage and boredom. Maukurz covered up his new bow and his sack of food with the blanket as well. Then he dug his elbows into the earth and belly-crawled forward, to where the ground was a little higher. _Let me see you now, shit face… _

They weren't hunting him, or even her, that much was certain. Men's laughter carried far. There were two of them, the one in the front bigger but not near as big as Maukurz. He rode a dark horse, the sort Maukurz had been ordered to steal before—though it was a dry-fuck of a job to steal a horse. The Man didn't wear the uniform Maukurz associated with the horse lords, but he smelled the same. He wore bright, soft-looking clothes, and smelled like Halla's bathwater, the scent that lingered in her hair. _Is it you? I wouldn't know, you're too stupid to touch her. Which is lucky for us both, _pushdug_. The one behind you smells like… ahh, I see. I see very clearly. You prefer your_ loburz_ to Halla._ Maukurz felt deep relief, although in his experience that was something that could change like the wind. There would be no guarantees until Maukurz found a bit of territory of his own, and kept his Halla there. The thought of this _pushdug_ touching Halla made his sight flush red and black for a moment, but there was nothing he could do to satisfy that urge, so he controlled himself quickly and kept watch. He didn't consider that mere months ago such an urge, unyielded to, ignored, would have eaten him alive.

The younger, smaller man rode behind on a shiny red mare, a large, hooded falcon at rest on his arm. Neither seemed inclined to stop. Neither had the faintest idea that Halla was lying in the ferns with an Uruk not fifty paces away. Maukurz laughed softly as they passed up the mountain trail. _Don't climb too high,_ he thought slyly, smiling. _Baiurz won't raid your villages, but he won't let you leave either._

He crawled back to Halla, ignoring the aches and pains. "You're safe," he told her, pulling the blanket back. She was covering her face with her hands, and he gently pulled them away. "You are safe, Halla," he repeated, stroking her cheek.

She was flustered and upset, and Maukurz took it bitterly. He had nothing to give her but his own two arms, so he pulled her close, holding her, breathing her in, playing his lips lightly over her hair. His entire body rumbled with satisfaction when she responded with delight, offering him her mouth, exposing her throat for him. It was true, she _liked_ his touch, of her own will. And she _trusted _him. It was a deeply warming—and unexpected-feeling for Maukurz. He tightened his grasp on Halla, wishing he didn't have to let her go ever again. But they had time still, and Maukurz intended to use every last moment of it well.

* * *

The walk home was impossible for Halla. She didn't want to leave Maukurz. She didn't want to see Finnan, she didn't want him to see _her_. She was sure he'd know what she'd done just by looking at her. She was incredibly sore and slow-walking, but it was her face she feared was different. Halla was sure she wasn't the same person who had left just that morning.

The setting sun cast long shadows over the estate. Finnan's large herd moved peacefully through the high meadow grazing. Clean, natural darkness spread out of the east, and the first stars shone and danced over the rolling empty steppes beyond. The entire visage was one of freedom and peace, yet Halla knew now that there were so many chains—those made by Men—in this free-looking country. She was _not_ free, at least not to love where she pleased. Halla wondered what her husband—what her _king_ for that matter—would do to her if he knew that she loved Maukurz.

She had hoped to get home unseen, but as she passed behind the stable a musical male voice called out, "Halla! Mistress Halla!"

Halla turned in terror, only to see Edwyn leaning gingerly against the stone wall of the stable. He smiled a disarming, enchanting smile. "Can I speak with you, for a moment?"

She was about to say something sharp, but found her words dying on her tongue. She nodded, but crossed her arms over her chest. The handsome young man approached her, a compassionate warmth in his eyes that stole all of Halla's anger.

"I can understand why you might hate me," Edwyn said mildly. "You think I've destroyed your marriage."

_It doesn't matter anymore,_ Halla thought, conscious of the slick dampness between her thighs. But she wouldn't respond.

"In a way, I hated you," Edwyn admitted.

"How… how could you?" Halla asked, astonished. "I've not wronged _you_, have I?"

"Not intentionally," Edwyn replied. "And it probably isn't fair. But I love him, Halla. I don't expect you to understand. What I'd like you to know, though, is that neither of us planned to fall in love. Certainly not during the War, with so much horror around us. Finnan didn't do it to hurt you, even though he knows he has."

He might have been speaking the very words in her heart. To her astonishment, Halla found herself walking along beside her husband's lover, her feelings of resentment and anger all but gone. "You love him, truly?" she asked. "As… a woman might?"

Edwyn smiled graciously. "Not as a woman might, Halla. As a Man. But yes, I love him, and I believe he loves me."

"Oh he does," Halla murmured. "He told me so." She sighed to see Edwyn's eyes warm with pleasure. "But how—How did it—How did it come to pass… Between you?"

"The War was atrocious, Halla, as I know you remember. We saw terrible, terrible things done by Saruman's Uruks. Entire villages, all but wiped out. What survivors there were, they will never be the same. Especially the women, but there were incidents… I need not describe it to you, but those tortures were not reserved for womankind alone, nor for adults only. So many nights, after we interrupted a raid, after we tried to help those remaining find some sort of safety, the Men of our _eored_ would sit in horror around our campfires, wondering how we'd ever go home and face our families, after what we had seen. I was the youngest, and perhaps a little unprepared. I come from a little village to the north of the White Mountains, near the Gondorian border, and I'd never seen an Uruk, never known their terror."

Halla closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears to his words. A part of her wanted to defend Maukurz, explain to Edwyn that he'd been born—fully grown—into Saruman's army. That failing to obey the wizard earned beatings and death. Yet she couldn't bring herself to, and it was a horrible feeling, for she realized all the more that her desire for Maukurz would be seen as something far beyond abhorrent. And was it?

"I see you are horrified," Edwyn said. "I too was… appalled by their atrocity. Afraid, even. At first, Finnan comforted me… In a way the others could not, for they could not admit to fear. We talked about honor, and duty, and how we were the only thing standing between our families and destruction. We talked about home, the things we loved, and he helped me see that dying to save those things was a noble, honorable thing. A death to be sought, even. Finnan helped me find my courage. And we did not die, even though we fought again and again. If you wish for me to tell you at what point… friendship became love, I could not. But by the time we mustered for the ride to Gondor, for those last, desperate battles, we were lovers. D'you know, if anyone found out, we would likely have been killed by our own brothers-at-arms?"

Halla looked at him sharply. "I cannot believe that. At the very least, you are both…" she bit her tongue before giving it all away.

Edwyn shook his head, a world-weariness settling on his face. "Doesn't matter, that we were all warriors together. They say such things, such a love as we have, is evil. But I can't believe that. My love for Finnan made me a better, stronger Man. Yet I am grieved for you. Finnan will not tell you this, but it was his father who pushed him to marry. After coming to suspect us. That was why I was not at your wedding. Had you wondered?"

"No," Halla said. "I can't even remember all the people at my wedding. But I do know there was another reason. All the land along the mountains there was left to me, when my parents died. Now it belongs to Finnan."

"Oh, well, that is ordinary," Edwyn said, the picture of an aristocratic youth as he waved a white hand idly. "If you and Finnan were in love, it should hardly matter to you that your land is in his care. And if… if you have children, all of _his_ land will go to them."

"But we _won't_ have children," Halla said firmly, and then a wave of nausea clutched her. _Children… Is it possible that… Maukurz and I…_

"Easy!" Edwyn cried, catching Halla as she almost fainted. She held his arm tightly, wondering if her affair with Maukurz would be so shockingly exposed. _Dear Bema, they will put me to death! Finnan will strangle me in the middle of the village, with his own hands…_

"I am so sorry, Halla," Edwyn soothed her. "It was certainly not my wish to cause you pain, and as for Finnan… he had little choice in the matter. His father threatened… to expose him."

Halla caught her breath. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on Edwyn's words, but she understood that she _must_ try to make a peace with him, and with her husband. Her very life would depend on it.

"But even as he threatened, he had no true proof, only suspicions. You, Halla, are the only soul who _knows._"

Halla understood then. She looked up at the handsome young rider. He had fine, clear blue eyes, and hardly a stubble on his smooth face. "You want to make sure I don't tell anyone," Halla said.

Edwyn grimaced. "I'm not _quite_ so shrewd. I did want to—not apologize, I will not apologize for loving Finnan… Yet I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your pain, and so is Finnan, though he is far more grave and silent than I. But yes… your discretion would be most welcome. And your interests are Finnan's, as it is. You would only harm yourself along with us."

"I won't tell anyone," Halla assured him quickly. "But understand, I've no desire to sleep with him."

Edwyn smiled empathetically, and he said with raised eyebrows, "Understand _I _have no desire for you to sleep with him! But heirs are important. I won't… speak for him on that, nor will I deny him his rights."

"You want protection, but you offer me none?" Halla asked archly.

He eyed her curiously. "Protection? I hardly think you need it. At any rate, you do wish for children, do you not? Finnan has told me that was…an anger of yours."

Halla shook her head, groaning inwardly. There was absolutely no way to explain it to Edwyn. "I won't tell, all the same," she swore. "You have my word."

Edwyn bowed his head slightly. "That is noble of you, Halla."

"Halla!"

They both looked up to see Finnan hurrying across the yard between the house and barn. Finnan hesitated, seeing his lover and his wife together. Then he jogged to her, tight anger in his face. _Is he suspicious of me?_ Halla wondered fearfully.

"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"We had a little talk," Edwyn said gently, sparing Halla the brunt of Finnan's anger.

"Well, very nice. But while you were _talking_ I've had a message from Marshal Erkenbrand. We're not going to Edoras after all, Halla. The Marshal will be here in two days' time, after he does a sweep of Fangorn to the north."

"What for?" Edwyn demanded anxiously.

"The messenger did not say, but I've had word of a raid not far to the north, by some of the very Dunlending scum our king has just forgiven. Likely he'll want me to organize patrols on my own borders. Halla, what is—?"

Finnan's words fell into silent shock as he watched his unwanted young wife swoon, and faint right into his lover's arms.

* * *

_loburz/u_ - derogatory word meaning effeminate, applied to male Uruk-hai who are the "bottom" in a sex act with another male Uruk, willing or unwilling. Also can be applied to "weak" Uruks who don't show the desired viciousness, making them targets.

_ashgaz_ - little one


	9. Chapter 9

"Don't worry, we won't be invaded here. Old friends will be coming by though soon. And I think you should have a lady's maid." Finnan sat beside the fireplace, where an armful of flowers sat in the unused grate, sipping from a mug of frothy ale.

Halla sat up. She'd been quite firmly put to bed, and it irritated her, but she saw no recourse against her husband, not when she was mortally afraid of what his _friends_ would find in the woods. "I really _don't_ need a lady's maid."

Finnan smiled sweetly. "I would feel better if you were well taken care of."

Halla grit her teeth.

"I don't think I need to tell you…" his voice stalled, leaving no doubt what he was talking about.

Halla shook her head, staring at the flowers. "I won't say anything about him," Halla assured Finnan. She felt like she was standing on a rocking boat, about to tip right over. "I don't want any… trouble."

Finnan nodded, and stood up. He walked halfway to the door, then turned to tell her, "Whatever has its eyes on this corner of the Westfold—or anything in it—have no worry. We will hold onto our own. _Nothing_ will trespass here."

Unable to meet his eyes, Halla nodded while looking down, smoothing the sheets over her lap. Two days. She had all of two days to figure out how to get Maukurz home, to such folk as he had hiding in the mountains. That she might never see him again after that—for she was terrified to go around his fellows—that was the price she'd pay to keep him alive. Which he most _certainly_ would not be if he was still lying there, once her husband and the other Riders cut like a scythe through the forest.

Once he left she lay back in the bed, staring at the tester. _Silverfire is far too green to bear Maukurz. Our horses hate his kind. It would need a strong leg and a well-trained charger to get him up the mountain on horseback._

_ Surely one like that could bear his weight. I can bring him close enough to his camp that he can call to his people, or they will find him, but far enough that I can get away before they come._

The problem was, Halla didn't know which of Finnan's horses were battle-tested. A Rider of his wealth would have several war mounts, but of those, Halla had only seen him ride the thick-necked roan. She could hardly ask him without arousing suspicion. But perhaps Ailen…

Blythe knocked and came in. "Master Finnan said you'd wanted a bath."

"Yes, please," Halla said. "And for tomorrow, I need laid out a plain woolen dress and riding breeches. I'm going to get to know the horses."

That evening before bed, she climbed into a warm bath in her copper tub and allowed herself a few moments of enjoyment, remembering what she'd done with Maukurz in the forest. There were no worries or thoughts then, only feelings, excitement and desire and freedom of course, but also a sure sense that Maukurz would fight for her. Finnan said he would protect her, but he was guarding property, and Halla was quite sure she was not the greatest of his property. Maukurz would run into fire for her, and Halla knew it. She hoped desperately it wasn't the last time she could be with him, but if it had to be that way, at least she'd make sure he survived the coming scouring.

Halla sunk into the warm, lapping water and remembered the exquisite pleasure Maukurz had given her. She pushed any terrifying thought that she might have fallen pregnant right out of her mind.

* * *

"Good morning, Mistress Halla!" Ailen said briskly, standing up straight and brushing off his plain homespun tunic.

"Hello, Ailen," Halla said, smiling kindly. "I was wondering if you might take me into the field to choose a horse. I've a mind to ride a big, strong one… But he must be calm, and well-schooled."

"I think we can find a nice one for you," Ailen said cheerily, snatching up a lead. "I'll just be a minute. I need to fetch a bucket of oats."

Halla nodded and walked over to one of the occupied stalls, peering through the iron bars above the half-wall. A heavily pregnant bay mare was placidly eating hay.

"That's Miss Matilda," Ailen said cheerily when he returned. "I'm hopin' for a black foal. The sire's sire was black, or so I hear. So many of the black ones were stolen, I'd like to see a dark beauty again."

"Were many of Lord Finnan's horses taken?" Halla asked.

"Not so much his but his father's, a few miles to the south. It was the big Uruks lasso'ed 'em. Terrible sight, that. Almost like the horses knew where they'd end up. But that's all over now."

"They fought it, didn't they? The horses?"

Ailen nodded, and they stepped back into the morning light. "I think it was the smell of the beasts. The first few times, my Da says, the horses went easy. After that, after the raids kicked up, the horses were as scared as the rest of us. Good thing all of those beasts are gone."

"The Uruk-hai didn't do it _themselves_," Halla said crossly. "They did it for the wizard. He made them do it. He made _them_, just for that purpose."

Ailen frowned uncomfortably. "All I know about Uruks is they killed one of my sisters and ruined another. And if anyone tried to make me do those sorts of things, I would run away."

"You don't know what you'd do. Remember the Deep? Saruman commanded such a fire that brought down stone. He can do all _sorts_ of things you've no idea of. Now if you were born to that, and you had a master with such power, wouldn't you obey him? He'd find you if you ran off, and make you pay! Wouldn't it matter much more what you did after the war?"

Ailen frowned, opening the gate to the north field. "I… I don't know, Mistress. Would it not be better to die yourself, than cause such misery to others?"

"I suppose it would be," Halla murmured. "Unless you know nothing better than what your master's told you to do. Perhaps you'd even try to be very _good_ at what he's told you to do, and win what little favor he might give."

Ailen's blonde eyebrows furrowed together, his freckled nose wrinkled up. "My Da taught me right from wrong, Mistress Halla. But s'posing I had a different Da, and he was bad, I might want to do right by him. So I'd do wrong, thinkin' good was bad and bad was good. That sorta what you mean?"

"Exactly. Exactly so." _For another reason than you think, you are exactly right! _For all Halla knew, Maukurz was her _kin._ Her own distant cousin, raised up by a true monster. Not just something that had different looks and knew only one way, but a brilliant and powerful demon in the guise of a fine noble Man.

"But it don't matter anymore, right Mistress? 'Cause all the Uruks are dead."

Halla swallowed, not knowing how to respond. She didn't want to lie to the boy, and she couldn't betray Maukurz. She shook her head lightly, ambiguously. They fell quiet then, walking through the damp grass, listening to cicadas and crickets and other insects sing in the morning cool. The herd was moving slowly over the grass nearby, a fine mist clinging to the ground around their legs. Halla smiled at the sight of three foals, cantering on little bandy legs beside their grazing mothers, nipping every so often for milk. Behind the herd, a high, snowy mountain tore slowly, then sharply out of the ground. Halla looked up to the cliffs, wondering where Maukurz's home might be.

"There's a good girl," Ailen said, pointing to a bright, almost snowy white mare trotting to a stand of taller grasses. "Morning Star. She was one of Master's mother's hunters, and the mother of your colt."

"She looks a little thin in the withers," Halla said quickly. A hunter wouldn't suit her purpose at all. "I want something with a big, broad back. Nice and comfortable, like riding a cloud. Who is that chestnut there?"

"That one?" Ailen asked, frowning, because he'd wanted to put her on the tamest mount. Halla nodded promptly. "That there horse goes by Death Hammer. He was at Pelenor Fields, he was. But… won't he be a little strong for you?"

"If he's well trained his mouth should be light enough," Halla said. "Besides, I have gloves. Let's catch him."

Within the hour, Halla was mounted on the big, proud charger, and he would have been a pleasure if she was riding for any other reason. Halfway to the forest she squeezed her calf and the horse stepped lightly into a strong, rolling canter. Halla leaned forward, urging the horse into a flat gallop. She raced into the forest, and galloped as high as she dared up the trail before the rocks became too many and the slope too great.

She dismounted at the ford. The horse snorted fretfully, flicked its ears back, but followed Halla obediently through the water all the same. She stepped off the trail and into the forest, looking at Maukurz sitting with his bow in his lap, an arrow between his fingers, fitted to the string.

"Don't shoot me," Halla called, smiling sadly. The horse jerked his head a few more times, but she led him forward, then tied his reins around the thin white trunk of a birch tree, and then plucked her calfskin gloves from her fingers.

Maukurz lay his bow aside as she approached, his hands out for her. He drew Halla into his arms, purring with pleasure to hold her again, drawing in her scent and letting it fill him. He frowned slightly, "You are sad," he breathed into her hair.

"Something terrible has happened, Maukurz," Halla said, tears in her eyes.

"Something that's frightened you?" he asked, flushing with anger.

"There are Riders coming here the day after tomorrow, a great Captain as well. They will search the forests all around here. I have to get you home, Maukurz. Back to your folks, so long as they are somewhere well hidden and high in the mountain."

Maukurz growled out a sigh, hating his infirmity. "That is what the horse is for: you think it will bear me home. But I tell you it won't. I've broken ribs more than once trying to stay on a horse's back. And I'd much rather die than leave you. Unless—" Maukurz curled a finger under Halla's chin, lifted her face to his hopeful smile. "Unless you will come with me? And we will find a place now, for the two of us?"

"I cannot," Halla told him. "For one thing, how would we live? How would we eat?"

Maukurz felt as if she'd slapped him, but it was nothing more than the truth. Until he could hunt for her, she wouldn't truly give herself to him. And why should she, just to starve to death with a cripple? "But you _will_ come to lie with me, talk with me, won't you? Halla?"

To entice her, and to his own delight, Maukurz buried his mouth against her neck. He longed to sink his fangs into that soft flesh, hold her like that as he fucked her hard, sending her back to the horse boy with bowed legs and his fresh mark prominent on her throat. Only his fear that they'd kill her for it stayed his desire. The laces of her gown frustrated him, but he couldn't shred them if she was going back. He finally tugged them away, and slipped his hand in the front of her gown.

"I'll come…" Halla breathed shakily, already aching for him. "But I don't… Want… Your folk… Near…" Her words dissolved as he tugged her gown over her shoulders, and his mouth fell on her breasts. Her hips pushed against his. He wanted her on his lap, so his leg wouldn't give him distraction. He was thrilled to sense her hot arousal, to find her wet and eager the way no female had ever been for him before. It was almost enough for him to finish before he'd even started, but Maukurz got hold of himself, stroking her wet sex as long as he could. He wanted no refusal this time, no fear, no running away to regroup. He took ahold of her hips and pulled her down on his swollen cock. Her moan was delicious, desire and just a touch of pain. Her back arched deeply, thrusting her proud, beautiful breasts in his face as he filled her slowly. Maukurz shuddered, gripping her hips, digging his claws just a little, just enough to feel the fragility of her firm, soft flesh. He set her rhythm, pulling and twisting her hips, for she was trembling already, bathing him with her quick climax. Maukurz cared nothing for troops of Riders galloping towards him as he braced his back against the tree and thrust as hard as he could into his lovely, willing female.

Maukurz took her twice before he could think. Laying on the ground with Halla draped over his chest he murmured, "D'you know what's making the horse lords come?"

"Finnan said Dunlendings raided," she replied softly, her fingers brushing over a scar of whiplash on his chest.

_Finnan_, Maukurz thought with disgusted jealousy. _The one who thinks he owns my female._ But he was far more concerned with the implications of Halla's statement.

"I thought the War was over," he growled quietly.

Halla sighed. "I don't think war is _ever_ finished for those… those people."

"Halla… if there is danger of raiding… I _can't_ go up in the mountains and leave you. What if they come to your village?" _What if they catch you? How can I protect you like this?_ "It would make me crazed to be so far from you, with such danger."

"Oh, I doubt I am in very much danger, Maukurz. The day after tomorrow, my village and my very home will be crawling with warriors." She smiled sadly, and brushed her fingers over his sharp cheekbone. "Which is why I must get you away. They will sweep this forest. You really don't know how close you are to our land. To my land, actually."

"I know my bearings well," Maukurz murmured in reply. "There'll be fields, and a big stone dwelling not a sprint away. Then a deserted, burnt out village past that. Another half-day's run down the river, should be a large village with a big wheel, and wooden palisade ringing all."

"Yes, the saw-mill in Birchleigh. But you speak of Lord Finnan's village, and it's not deserted anymore. It's being new built, and people are returning all the time to this part of the country, now that the War is finished. And anything… anything posing a threat…" she shook her head, tears flushing her eyes again. "They will surely kill. I must get you higher up the mountain, you see Maukurz? And even then, I will live every day in a terror, that you've been found and... and killed. Now, do you know where your kinfolk are?"

Maukurz nodded, his golden eyes heavy.

"Then we'll let this horse get used to your presence today, and spend what time we have left well, before I must return for some ridiculous dress fitting. But tomorrow… Tomorrow I _must_ get you mounted, and bring you back home."

"How will I see you?" Maukurz breathed, feeling a sharp pain in his chest and guts at the thought of being so far away from Halla.

"We _will_ find a way," Halla swore fiercely, unwilling now to abandon him, no matter the danger. "But we must let this trouble die down, do you understand?"

Maukurz growled softly, and tightened his arms on Halla. "I understand," he said bitterly.

"But we have a little time still," Halla whispered, smiling, pushing herself up. She lay her lips against his, kissing him softly, thrilling him with the new, exquistely tender sensation. Maukurz wrapped his arms around her tightly, and let her hot body and her sweet attention banish all thoughts of what the next day would bring.


	10. Chapter 10

Just as Halla was heading out the door the next morning, wondering however she was to get Maukurz onto the horse, Finnan came walking up the lane, a hard-eyed and severely dressed woman in her mid-twenties beside him.

"Halla dearest, you remember I wished to find a maid to assist you? This is Ailen's older sister, Ailith. She is… making her own way in the world, isn't that right, Ailith?"

Ailith nodded curtly. "That is so, my lord. Good day, my lady."

Halla managed to close her mouth. She would not thank Finnan. There was a light in his eyes that was all together cunning and victorious, and Halla realized that her absences from the manor had not been overlooked. _He suspects me of a lover,_ Halla thought._ And he fetches Ailen's sister to spy on me! Pray not the same one Ailen spoke of? Surely Finnan would have no idea about…_

_It doesn't matter a jot. I _will_ see Maukurz safe today._

"I will leave you two alone to get acquainted," Finnan said, sweeping a bow that was far too charming for his usual deportment.

"So…" Halla began, "Are you married?"

"Not at all," Ailith said, her voice as severe as her tightly bound hair and her high-necked homespun gown. "As your husband said, I make my own way now. I suppose I ought to put it out, before you hear any gossip from your friends. I was caught in a raid, and fell pregnant. The usual remedies for that condition had no effect on the monster spawn, and so I drowned it in the river as soon as it came. If there was a Man in the world who'd have me after that, I'd still have no desire for him. I take what work I find, putting my wages aside to buy a bit of land, a stallion, and a few mares. Whatever I make of myself, I will leave to my brother's children when they come."

Halla's face and guts contorted at once, and she turned away from Ailith's pointed stare.

"You are disgusted. I don't blame you. But I work hard, and that's what matters, does it not?"

"Forgive me," Halla said, once she'd found her voice. She could not imagine what was worse, being raped in a raid, or drowning a blameless newborn babe. Or being faced with such a woman, after giving herself to an Uruk-hai warrior! Halla had never been a good prevaricator, and she found it quite impossible to draw the smile she was sure she _ought_ to. Her breath came in a rickety sigh, and she said, "Well, there won't be much work for you today. I am already dressed, and I am going riding. I shall be gone a good long while. You can make yourself at home while I am gone."

Ailith's eyes danced suspiciously, and Halla knew that Finnan had truly brought her in to spy. "Shall I ride with you, my lady? Your husband was quite clear that I was to accompany you always."

Halla grit her teeth, watching as Finnan disappeared into the field to catch a horse. _He will go to Edwyn, yet he chains me here to this hard-hearted woman! Well, both shall find that I am not so easily hobbled!_

As soon as Finnan was out of sight, Halla rounded on Ailith. "I am going _alone_, as I planned. And if you think I shall explain my comings and goings to _you_, you are quite mistaken. I know he pays you, but you still work for me."

Ailith stared baldly at Halla; but then her hard mouth softened, and she said, "Then you should know, my lady, he suspects you of adultery. I would rather prove you innocent, for the punishment he would deal is severe."

"Is it?" Halla laughed. "He speaks so of me? He _threatens_ me? Then he is a _fool._ I have no fear of _him_, I assure you. But I do have a duty today, an urgent duty, and I doubt you'd wish to come along. There is… there is one I love in great danger, and I will give such assistance as I can."

"A Man?" Ailith asked. "You do not deny the charge."

Halla flushed with fury. "There is no _Man_ save Finnan, you can bet your life on that. You can tell him that, if you will! It is the full and total truth, I swear it by Bema, by all the Valar and Eru himself! And _you_, Ailith, will not charge me with a thing!"

With that Halla spun on her heel and marched away, a sick, sour feeling in her belly. She broke into trembling before she reached the barn, going to sit against the back wall until Finnan had tacked his horse and galloped off for a morning of love and joy. _Which he denies me,_ Halla thought bitterly.

_But this is quite bad. Not only does Finnan suspect me, he's sent such a woman to me… Is there some way she might suspect the truth? Some way she might _know _the truth, seeing me? I do pity her… except for the bit about the poor baby… But I will _not _give up my love, the only love I ever need and want._

The whole thing made Maukurz's offer of running away together seem much, much better. But still… Her land—though fallen fallow due to the war—had been in her family through the reign of eight kings. Halla had been excited to see it under some sort of cultivation. There were marshy bits by the river that would do well for growing flax, and sweet pastureland for horses and sheep both, as they ate different parts of the grass. And even if she did nothing at all with it, she was loathe to let go of what her family had held for so many generations. Maukurz surely couldn't understand… or could he? Was he not, in some way, a son of Rohan?

Halla sighed heavily, knowing that even if Maukurz's mother had been old King Theoden's queen herself, he would still never be accepted. _There's no chance for us here. I should run away with him as soon as he is better, as soon as he can hunt. _

But how could she give up the only life she'd ever know? Halla could not see the fairness in being asked to choose between all she knew and loved, and this new love for Maukurz that made her body sing and her heart glad. No one had ever made her feel as Maukurz did, exotic and precious at the same time, as far from a barely tolerated orphan and an unwanted wife as could be. _I will _not _give that up._

_But will I have to give up all else in return?_

Halla couldn't think anymore. As soon as she saw Finnan ride off, she stood up, and ordered Ailen to ready the war horse.

* * *

"Halla…" Maukurz balked at the sight of the great horse. He'd been thrown enough times to imagine just how it would feel as his already injured body was catapulted into the rocky earth.

"He will bear you," Halla said desperately, her palm cupping Maukurz's sharp cheek. "Besides, we've no choice now. The Riders will come here tomorrow and they will kill you, _please_…"

"What about you?" he asked, drawing her into his lap. He took her small wrists in one hand, thinking that she was so terribly fragile. He felt sick, knowing he had no way to keep her, no way to protect her. "I _hate _you going back to him every night! I'd rather die than be without you."

She had tears in her eyes. "If you die I will die! I can't go back to that cold dead life, Maukurz! I _swear_ we will find a way, but now you must go back to your people! Trust me!"

Maukurz tilted her face up, studying her with every sense he could muster for some sign she was not abandoning him. Finding nothing but desire and confusion and fear, he sighed and laid his cheek against hers. "Trust… is not something I know well, Halla," he said quietly.

Halla took his face in her small hands. "You must learn it then," she murmured, kissing him softly. It was a strange thing for Maukurz, to feel her mouth on his so gently, without any of the aggression he had believed accompanied intimacy. He was afraid to yield to such a thing, sensing that if he did, some long denied part of him, a part he didn't know existed but had vigilantly oppressed all the same, would come screaming to the surface. But her closeness inflamed him, and without any thought he tightened his arms around her. Slowly, awkwardly, he returned her kiss, unaware of anything else as his hands snaked into her hair. Yet he could no more deny his Orcish nature than the wolves they both loved could deny their own selves, and he bit her lip softly, drawing his sharp teeth gently over that sweet fullness, ever so careful not to break her delicate skin no matter how badly he longed to.

He felt control slipping away from him as he found her throat. Not knowing how to ask for what he'd always taken, Maukurz grazed her throat with his teeth. He opened his mouth to bite down, but when his sharp teeth pressed into her flesh she gasped and became frightened. Maukurz wrenched himself away, groaning. "Shh…" he pleaded, "I just… I want to know you're mine."

"I am _yours,_" Halla whispered, kissing his neck, pulling on his long, thick hair.

"I want… you… want you to wear my mark," he told her, gasping at the sudden sensitivity of his flesh under her lips. "Want to… taste you…"

"I don't know what you mean," she breathed dizzily, flushed with desire.

Maukurz sighed hard. Her mouth was just beneath his ear, and he could pick out all the separate melodies of her breathing, her soft little whimpers of desire. He tried to find words but it felt like trying to catch birds in his hands. He broke away and pushed her head gently back, exposing her pale white neck. _Somewhere that her _husband_ can't see…_ he thought desperately, running his hands over her fragile, breakable throat. "Does he… look at you? Un... unclothed?" Maukurz growled, the thought of anyone else's eyes on Halla's body infuriating.

"Never," she replied, as soft as water in his hands. _Trust,_ Maukurz thought, frightened by the heaviness of such responsibility, _this is trust, I think._

Maukurz fumbled with the laces of her gown, exposing her soft shoulder, feeling her body writhe against his. He kissed the soft place between her thin bones, then set his teeth to it, pushing as hard as he dared without drawing blood. She cried out softly, but didn't pull away. "Right here," he whispered against her skin. "Yes?"

"It will hurt?" she asked softly.

"Just a little... I'll make you feel good though."

"Yes..." Halla breathed, nodding, excited. Maukurz gasped in surprise: while he'd been searching for a place to leave his mark, she'd pulled her gown up. Now she took him in, breathing hard, sweet, sharp cries catching in her throat as she struggled and pushed herself down on him. The shock of it—entering her so unexpectedly, on _her_ terms—was enough to bring him all the way to climax. Maukurz grit his jaw and threw his head back, but she pulled his face back down, kissing him again.

Maukurz surrendered for the first time in his life, holding her, running his hands over her body, letting her control everything. He had no more to do than just feel, and it was achingly sweet. But soon he had no choice: his body demanded more. He gripped her tightly, bent his good right leg, flexed his rock hard abdominal muscles as he thrust up into her, his breath a harsh, purring growl in her ear. Only a moment later she tossed her head back, moaning as her body clenched and shivered and washed over him. _Now,_ he thought. He bent his neck and set his teeth to her shoulder, sinking his bite into her soft, vulnerable flesh. He heard her moan of pleasure turn to a whimpered cry as her sweet blood spurted into his mouth, and then back to a soft moan as he rolled his hips against her. Beset in every sense with pleasure and fulfilled desire, Maukurz bit down on a vicious roar as every sensation came to an explosive peak and he filled her belly with his dark seed.

He clung to her, coming slowly back to awareness. She was shaking in his arms. His mouth was full of her blood, and she was leaning against him as if her bones had melted. He smoothed her hair, and when he recovered speech he asked her, "All right?"

She was breathing so shakily that he was anxious for her, anxious he'd gone too far. Then she whispered, "_Incredible…_"

Maukurz laughed softly, rippling and purring with delight, sure that she was his completely. "Don't let no one see that," he warned her. He released her to tear a piece of the blanket, then poured some of the water she'd gotten him the day before over it. He dabbed the wet cloth carefully on her pierced, bloody skin.

"I'll tell them a wolf bit me," she laughed playfully, even as she flinched from the cold cloth on her sore shoulder.

Maukurz frowned. He dropped the cloth and set his hands on her cheeks, directing her eyes at him so she would be sure to see how serious it was. "No, Halla, this isn't for laughing. Horse boys… they will know, you understand? Don't let no one see this. This is only for us."

Halla sighed unhappily. "I understand."

"When I am healed, you will come to me forever. Then no more hiding, no more fear. I swear this."

She sighed again, twining her arms around his neck. "We had better get going," she said softly.

"I know. I will try now."

Halla stood up on shaky legs, her fingers gingerly examining the fresh mark. He knew she didn't understand the meaning of it fully, but it was pleasure enough for Maukurz to see his scars on her flesh. "Find me a long stick," he told her. "If you want me to try to get on that… that animal… I must stand first."

It was a long, frustrating process. Maukurz was ashamed of how dizzy he felt, how much he needed to lean on the stick just to stand up again. But he was glad, finally, to be upright. At the very least, he wouldn't have to crawl to take a piss anymore. Yet he could bear no weight at all on his broken leg, and that was slightly frightening. Halla encouraged him, assuring him he did well, and so he swallowed his bitterness. "Bring him over," Maukurz said, tossing his chin at the horse tied a few paces away.

Halla took the saddle off first, leaving it in the ferns. She handed Maukurz his bow and quiver, which he shouldered. Then she took hold of the reins and brought the animal over. The horse wanted nothing to do with Maukurz, but two days of being in the Uruk's presence made it a little easier to bring it up to him. The horse pinned its ears back and its eyes were wide as Maukurz tentatively ran his hand over the animal's thick, strong back. Halla kept a tight grip on the reins. "D'you think you can pull yourself up?"

Maukurz nodded. "That's no problem, my arms are good still. But where will you sit? How will you get up?"

"I should get on first. Then you get behind me. Can you, you think?"

"Sure," he said.

Halla grasped a handful of mane and lightly vaulted onto the horse, something she'd been able to do since she was ten years old. Maukurz grinned in delight, watching her gown bunch up around her firm thighs. "Next I mark you here," he murmured, running his finger over the ripe flesh. Then he took a deep breath and braced his hands on the horse's back. Halla held the horse firmly, stroking its neck. She was stunned by Maukurz's strength as he pushed himself up with ease, using his powerful arms alone, then swung his good leg over the horse's back. He scooted up behind Halla, and wrapped his arms around her.

Then he laughed softly. "Shit," he breathed. "Shit. I'm on one!"

"You certainly are. Now let's get you home."

Maukurz directed her up into the mountains. He could feel her pulse quicken. Her fear became palpable, but she was excited too. He wondered if she was considering coming to live with him. He tightened his arms around her belly and kissed her neck. They climbed so high the air turned cold, and snow crunched on the ground. After two full hours of travel at a slow walk, through pine forests, on winding, dangerous trails no horse wanted to take, Maukurz murmured in her ear, "We've almost arrived—"

He caught his words, then whispered, "Whatever you do, don't scream. Don't be afraid. I swear all will be well."

"What—?"

Halla froze in terror, and Maukurz clutched her to him as four Uruk-hai slipped around the trees, surrounding them.


	11. Chapter 11

"Ai, what's this?" a lanky, tough-skinned Uruk demanded, stepping into the light. Sudden laughter cracked his severe face. "Maukurz Iron-Cock, fucker of all creatures great and small! Back from the dead and with sweets for his friends!"

Halla—shaking in terror—felt a cold dirty feeling crawl over her skin at the epithet assigned her lover by the vicious-eyed Uruk. For a moment she was in horror that Maukurz had tricked her, that she'd be passed about like a rag doll and her horse butchered for meat.

A low growl issued from Maukurz's throat, not enough to be a challenge, but to issue a claim, and a warning that Halla wouldn't at all understand. "_Skai gah, _Narzum, _honlat amol pukhl-lat! Agh sharlobfiin-izub!" _

Maukurz's hand smoothed over Halla's flat belly, and he murmured _steady _in her ear. Her tightening hands on the reins—and the presence of so many Uruk-hai—had the horse near ready to bolt. It danced anxiously, and Maukurz dreaded being bucked off. "Steady, Halla-mine," he breathed. Her chin was tucked against her shoulder in terror, a terror that musked all around her, rankling Maukurz and arousing his mates. He called loud and strong to them: "I've a broken leg! Got into a scrap with fifteen Dunlending scum. This young lady saved my life, and she's mine now."

A stocky, saw toothed Uruk called out, "Rat balls! Baiurz ain't gonna let her in! Yuh think we all don't wanna good, soft, red-blooded fuck for once? But the commander's right! Yer pretty piece of cunt'll be the death of us!

Maukurz's growl rolled unstoppable from the hot fury in his guts. "You watch your fucking mouth as well, Flaguz! Besides, she ain't stayin!"

"_Garn!_" Narzum spat in disappointment. "Got _anything_ good for us, then? Or just yer own tender arms?"

Maukurz grinned and shrugged the bow off his shoulder. "Got a bow to get us some proper meats! If I don't put an arrow through each o'yer beady eyes first, you ugly fuckers! Now someone gimme an arm to lean on. _Sharlob-izub_ gotta sneak back to her folk."

Narzum and another, less ugly brown-skinned Uruk stepped forward. The one called Flaguz stood sneering, shaking his head, muttering that Maukurz had risked them all. Maukurz held up his hand before his two mates came close.

"Gimme a moment with my girl. You're both far too ugly and shit-smelling for her!"

Laughing good-naturedly, Narzum and the other Uruk stood still, but ten paces from Halla and her horse. Halla thought she'd die for sure. "I don't want to leave you here!" she whispered, digging her nails into Maukurz's arm.

"Ah, they're harmless," Maukurz murmured. "Sorry 'bout… all that. Rough soldiers and all, haven't seen a pretty woman since the winter." He raised his voice for their benefit and said, "Idiots don't know the first thing about how to act with a woman!" Whispering again, Maukurz said, "When I am well… I'll come to you."

"_How_?" Halla gasped. "Where will I meet you? How will I know when to… to come looking?"

"Don't worry 'bout that. I'll find _you_. You never seen me on my feet, Halla. No horse boy gonna catch me, or keep me from what's mine. You still mine, right? These dummies didn't scare you off?"

Halla finally smiled a little. "Of course I'm yours. And heal quick…" she murmured. "I will miss you."

"I'll _burn_ for you," Maukurz promised, reaching around her throat. He caught her cheek in his hand and turned her head as much as it would turn, leaning round to kiss her as deeply as she'd taught him to and then some.

"Aieeeee!" Narzum cackled, echoed by the whistling and hooting of the others, all but the sour-faced Flaguz.

Maukurz laughed against Halla's lips; then he caught her lower lip in his sharp teeth, pulling softly. "I will come for you!" he swore harshly, breaking away, leaving Halla breathless. He motioned the brown Uruk forward, and swung himself as lithely as a cat off the horse's back, landing on his strong right leg. He slung an arm around the Uruk's shoulder. Halla winced for him, seeing how he set some weight on his broken leg and forced himself to hobble along as if he felt no pain at all.

"Narzum stew for supper, boys!" Maukurz called, slinging his other arm around the Uruk who had taunted him so filthily. "Whaddya say to that?"

"And sweet Narzum tail for yer desert, eh Maukurz?" the fourth Uruk called.

"That way," Maukurz directed his helpers, jerking his chin toward the fourth Uruk. Maukurz lifted his powerful arm from Narzum's shoulder long enough to bat the speaker upside his head with a ringing blow.

The Uruk ate it, grinning. "Good to have yuh back, Cap'n."

Halla, eyes blurry with tears, waited until Maukurz looked over his shoulder to her. His well-formed lips kissed the air in her direction; his golden eyes caressed her one last time. Her head spinning, Halla wheeled the war-horse around and cantered off.

* * *

Halla gasped when she emerged from the woods. It was late afternoon, and she'd gotten Maukurz away not a moment too soon. More than two dozen white soldiers' tents had gone up around her manor, and fifty horses grazed in the lower field, away from Finnan's herd. "Dear Bema," Halla breathed. Marshal Erkenbrand and his Riders had come early. Likely Finnan, having planned to spend the day in Edwyn's arms, was just as shocked. _Well, now we both will suffer together,_ Halla thought without any satisfaction. But she was certain that the Uruk's lofty, hidden eagle's nest would never be found. No one would think there was anything but mountain goats up so high.

She untacked Death Hammer herself, and brushed him down slowly. She couldn't make any sense at all of the filthy things the Uruks had said about Maukurz. They'd all but said he'd—fuck—anything on two legs or four, including Narzum! _Rough soldier's talk_, she told herself, _even more vile for being Uruk-hai soldiers. Surely that's all. _No one who knew… who knew how to bring such pleasure to a woman's body could do such foul things! _If I hadn't seen Edwyn and Finnan together, I'd think no more of it than filthy humor. Just thinking of my so-called husband can sour my thoughts of my love!_

Yet she wondered what Maukurz had snapped in his dark tongue… after he'd been called that _name _and so described… why he'd not used any language she could understand, _then_ lapsed back into the speech of Rohan… which his fellows all knew quite well.

_The Uruk-hai are both everything like I once believed, and nothing like it at all._ Despite how coarse they were, Halla had sensed a true brotherhood amongst the refugees of Isengard. Their coarseness was well known and much spoken of, yet no Man believed Uruk-hai were capable of friendship, or of love. _Now I know that they are capable of both. And I will not think anything bad of Maukurz. He was likely warning them away from me, and not wanting to frighten me with the violence of his words. He nearly roared at them when they said those vile things about me! _

_And how _strong_ he is…_

Halla blinked her tears away, thinking that it would be weeks before she would be in Maukurz's hot arms again. It was almost too much to bear. She relished the raw soreness between her legs as she brought the charger back out to the field, watching him gallop off in freedom. It was the last she'd feel of that for a good while, she was certain. Halla wondered with a sad smile if Death Hammer might tell his kin about what a day he had with her! She put her fingers to her shoulder—and felt with horror wet blood seeping through her gown.

Frantically, Halla unbound her braid, Maukurz's warning repeating in her mind. She did not wish to contemplate just how the Riders—and her husband among them—would know what Maukurz's mark was. She knew, of course: but she chose to ignore it. _Besides, it's not the same thing at all. I gave myself gladly to Maukurz. _Her legs weakened for a moment, wordlessly recalling the wild, erotic feeling of Maukurz biting her shoulder, sucking her blood, making her come a thousand times harder as he marked her. _His mark will be on me forever,_ Halla thought, thrilled and joyful, yet terrified, all at the same time. _I want to know your mine,_ he'd said. _I want to taste you._

Yet it was the terror that won out as she approached the manor. Near twenty Riders were milling about the camp on her lawn, setting up fires and polishing their swords and armor. All bowed to her, smiling, calling her _my lady_ without any idea of whose embrace she'd just left. She could hear singing from within her hall, rowdy ale-house songs. She braced herself for Finnan to hiss at her about her improperly unbound hair… which was far better than the alternative. She would have to hurry to her bath, ducking that hard-eyed Ailith as well. _Would she know what this blood, this mark meant? _

That, Halla realized, was a far more worrisome thought than anything! _Surely she wouldn't know what a love-mark meant? She was raped! But… if the Riders would know…_ Halla sighed miserably, wishing she was back in the forest, alone with Maukurz. She pushed the stout oak door open, and stepped into a hot, packed hall. Riders were everywhere, eating at her table, drinking ale and throwing knucklebones, singing rousing songs of victory. Somewhere among them was the grim Lord Erkenbrand.

And then, Finnan emerged from the crowd, a hard look on his pale face. Halla straightened herself up, waiting for a heaping of harsh, angry words. He stepped up to her, a head taller than her. He stood in silence for a moment, taking her in, freezing her with his icy stare.

"Halla…" Finnan said in a muted voice.

"My lord," Halla returned, bobbing a small curtsey.

Finnan sighed heavily. Halla saw Edwyn across the room, throwing bones with some young Riders, carefully ignoring his lover. _They must be miserable_, Halla thought empathetically. _I wish I could tell them that I shared their pain! But no, here he opens his mouth to scold—_

"Halla," Finnan repeated, "I've just had word from my father's house. My father has died."

"Oh, Finnan," Halla said, true compassion filling her heart. "I am so sorry."

Finnan nodded curtly. "We were not close. As you may well imagine."

Halla nodded as well. "Still, it is a great loss. I know it well. I shall bathe, and change into proper mourning attire."

"Yes…" Finnan said. "Though we've no time for mourning here just yet, you and I shall mourn him in private, as is proper. I am now Lord Birchleigh," he said tightly. "We must act accordingly. So do please go upstairs…" His eyes roamed over her, too burdened to show the malice of his suspicions, but displaying suspicion all the same. "Clean yourself up. And you… you must not wear your hair loose as a maid, Halla," Finnan said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "Whatever the case may be. You are Lady Birchleigh now."

* * *

"_Skai gah, _Narzum, _honlat amol pukhl-lat! Agh sharlobfiin-izub!" _-Damn, Narzum, watch what you say! And the little white-skin girl is mine!


	12. Chapter 12

"You hurt much?"

Maukurz was lying on his back on the hard cave floor, pillowing his head on his laced fingers. He rolled his head sideways and looked to Narzum. The dim glow of the fire, just back from the mouth of the cave, cast long, beautiful shadows over Narzum's thin, wild face. Maukurz offered a half-smile. "The first few days were shit. Maybe two days, maybe three. I didn't know how bad it was. I didn't have water. I was done for."

"But then you found the _migaz_…" Narzum laughed, tapping out a soft rhythm on the drum he'd saved from Isengard, a piece of contraband he'd risked his life for too long to let it go in the raging Isen.

"_She_ found _me_. She was right in my face, a little tickler of a knife in her hand, didn't wanna stab me." Maukurz grinned, looking at the ceiling again. Back with the other Uruk-hai, he knew Halla's appearance to be the best bit of luck he'd ever had.

"She just wanted to suck your cock," Narzum murmured, barely audible over the pulsing drum.

Maukurz hissed softly, gently through his teeth. He looked to Narzum, quiet for a long breath of a moment before he said, "Don't talk about her. I don't want anybody thinking 'bout her."

Narzum laughed louder, taking the refusal of his subtle offer amicably, though not without disappointment. "Good luck with that, big brother. She was sucking on your _tongue._"

Maukurz smiled like a rogue, picking at a little pebble on the floor and throwing it at Narzum, stinging him in his bare chest. "Shut the fuck up," Maukurz said. He shivered, thinking of Halla.

"What's it like? With a white-skin, like that? Who likes fucking?" Narzum asked.

Dagalur, the fourth Uruk who Maukurz had whacked upside the head, spun around, sitting crosslegged near Narzum. "I'm in this shit. Beggin' yer pardon, Cap'n. I gotta hear this shit."

They'd never let it go without some description, so one-of-a-kind was Halla. Maukurz grinned, closing his eyes. "You know how I told you about the pits, right? How if you take your time and play and taste 'em, and you don't get all fuckin' wild tearin' 'em up, you can get a much better fuck..."

"No dry cunt," Narzum said, smacking his drum pointedly.

"Yeah but it _was_ most of the time. They didn't wanna be there, they didn't _want_ to fuck. You just take what you can get and like it. But... shit, I hate talking about her, you fuckin' little prick freaks..."

"Come on, who's had it before like that? _Nobody._ _Master_ didn't get it like that. You're like the Lord of Cunt," Dagalur laughed, grinning. "You gotta throw some crumbs to us lowly maggots."

"Fuck you. It was sweet, right? You can get all the way in, you can do how you like, and she's in your ear breathin' all fast and makin' little sounds... And it's like warm, sweet water just breakin' all over you."

Dagalur could imagine it, just a little. Narzum smiled crookedly and laughed, thumping his drum. "Bad example for me, maybe. Water and all."

"Nah, you just don't know what's what, you like a sand pit," Dagalur said, deliberately excluding the picture of Isengard destroyed and Narzum choking on his back, puking river water, his illicit drum clutched in hand.

Maukurz sighed, tuning out the rude, raunchy conversation that began around him. He was content in one way, and full of angst in another: he'd had her, but not nearly enough. And though she said she was his, he had no territory of his own, and he was crippled. So there was no forever yet. And so much unexplored on her! And no whelps in her belly yet. Maukurz wanted it all, every bit of Halla. He wouldn't settle for anything less.

Then Flaguz's voice interrupted his planning, his fantasy. The Uruk hissed, "_Sharlob_ likes Uruk-hai so much, she should give us all that sweet wet box, like War times, right down the line."

Outraged, Maukurz flew up, his ribs grinding, his roar bellowing. If his leg hadn't been broke, he would have ripped Flaguz's tongue out of his throat, refugees together or not.

"Shut the fuck up back there!" Baiurz barked. The Commander was seated at the mouth of the cave, gazing watchfully into the darkness, already angry with Maukurz for bringing his white-skin so close to their lair.

Maukurz glared at Flaguz with fire in his eyes and his lips curled in blood lust. _So you don't wanna forget, do you? You don't wanna let shit go. You think I'm weak like this. __You think the Commander will take your part, so now's your chance for payback._ Behind Baiurz's back, Maukurz beckoned Flaguz with his fingers, sneering, licking his teeth. Mouthing, _come get what you want, bitch… _Flaguz stared back blackly, unwilling to show aggression after Baiurz denounced it.

The other Uruks in the cave, Narzum, Dagalur, and Shatauz sat wide eyed, wondering when the clash would come, deciding who they'd stand behind. Narzum started thumping his drum again, recklessly, shaking his head and smiling.

* * *

Halla sat over a cup of ale, listening to her husband discussing his new village of Birchleigh. Apparently—as with all over Rohan—there was a great rush to build exciting the villagers there, those survivors who were so eager to forget the war.

"There will be a rush for lumber from here to Edoras," Finnan's neighbor said, raising his eyebrows. "With the river so close to provide transport, those who have lands along the wood stand in line to make a neat little profit. You own the mills at Birchleigh outright, no?"

"That's true," Finnan said. "Both the saw mill and the grain mill belong to me, and the villagers must grind their grain there and pay the fee. There was some trouble in my father's time with homemade grinding stones, and sabotage of the millworks, but he put a swift end to all that. No one dares it now."

"Best see to that soon," the neighbor advised. "Nothing is so sure to inflame disobedience as a change in the lordship. But anyway, we've no such worries about your saw mill. It's the only one in the area. Some of my friends are hopeful that we might reach an accord with you, concerning its use. You'd be handsomely compensated, Lord Birchleigh."

Halla sighed in boredom, running her finger absently around the lip of her mug. She looked about the hall, catching Edwyn's gaze. He rolled his eyes a little and winked at her, and Halla smiled.

Halla waited impatiently for a pause in the conversation. "I am for bed, my lord," she said quietly.

Finnan looked up at her as he rose, and the eyes of his neighbors followed. "You don't wish to stay, Halla? Some of the Men are to sing the legends by the fireside soon, once all have had their fill of meat."

"I am exhausted," she lied. Truthfully, she felt her skin crawling under the gaze of Maukurz's enemies, who would hunt him to death even though he had lost his sword long months ago, and never picked up another. She couldn't stop the impulsive reach of her hand to her marked shoulder, checking for dampness and bleeding. She also couldn't ignore how comfortable she once would have felt around these Men, and how rich and warm the hall was. How familiar were the smells of ale and mead and roasting meat, and Men who smelled of supple leather and warm horseflesh! All of which she would have to leave behind for Maukurz, unless she chose them over her love. There could be no merging of the two.

Finnan smiled politely. "In that case, I shall leave you to your rest tonight my dearest, and sleep in the hall with the warriors."

_Well knock me down with shock, _Halla thought, pursing her lips together. But of course, it was more than fine with her if Finnan would use any excuse he could to stay far from her bed. The few nights she'd woken to find him settling on the other half of the bed she'd been deeply uncomfortable and frightened.

"Goodnight, my lords," Halla said, dipping a curtsey. She cast one last look at the fire-lit hall, and hurried up the stairs just in time to see Ailith pouring a kettle of boiling water into her tub. The soothing smells of lavender and chamomile wrapped around Halla and she smiled.

"Blythe said you took your bath in the morning and at night,"Ailith told her. "I thought I'd be prepared."

Halla arched her eyebrows curiously. She felt a little hope that maybe this was an offer of friendship, after their bad beginning. Halla hadn't realized how much she missed her female friends, all considered lower class by Finnan. "Thank you, Ailith," Halla said. "That was thoughtful of you."

Ailith clasped her hands together and approached Halla. She offered a small smile. "Shall I unbind your hair?"

Halla's hand brushed over her sore shoulder again, feeling only the soft linen of her new coral pink gown, one of ten Finnan had ordered from the seamstress. She felt also the two pins discretely holding a linen square over the fresh mark, as much of a bandage as she dared. No blood had seeped through.

Halla crossed to her small oak vanity table and sat on the cushioned stool. She unclasped her amber and gold necklace and draped it over a fine silver tray, patting her bandage again discretely. In a moment she felt Ailith's firm hands pulling her ivory pins from her hair. Halla gazed piningly into the amber, longing for him, wondering how he was fairing with his rough company.

_He seems to have authority over them, even injured. So there is hope that all will be well… But how long will it be before these Riders depart, and he is healed? How long before I feel his arms around me again?_

She realized Ailith was speaking to her. "My brother says you always go into the woods, every day, several times a day. I told him he ought not to mind the business of his betters. I don't think Ailen has said anything to his lordship yet… But as you know, Men—even boys who think they are Men—tend to stick together. It would be wise, my lady, to find some other place to conduct your affairs. There are many eyes upon you."

Halla sighed through a tight jaw, refusing to validate Ailith's statement by responding. _They'll all be disappointed, then, that I have no where at all to go tomorrow, nor the next day. Maukurz promised that he would come to me, just as soon as the time was right. Although I can't think of how he will manage it, with so many around me bent on my misery!_

Ailith's hands froze in Halla's hair. "You're bleeding, my lady!"

Halla stood up abruptly, pulling loose strands of her hair over her shoulder as she crossed the floor. She ran her fingers through the warm, soothing water. "I'm quite fine. You can go. I'm sure my husband has told you, or Blythe has, that there are sleeping quarters for you in the kitchen. And surely there is plenty of mead and meat tonight; you might as well help yourself to a hearty supper. But as for me, I wish to take my bath in privacy."

"You should bandage it at the very least—" Ailith stopped speaking, her eyes on Halla's shoulder and an odd, fearful look in her eyes.

Her stomach cramping, Halla returned to her vanity table. She picked up a polished silver mirror, her breath quickening to see Maukurz's bite quite obviously delineated in a ring of growing red blotches encircling the hollow of her shoulder. She must have somehow made the blood soak through the bandage with her light, anxious patting. Halla set the mirror down with shaking hands. "I… was with the horses… One of them bit me…" Halla laughed, high and nervous. "Foolish, really, on my part! I was between two mares who didn't like each other…"

It was a frightfully stupid excuse, but the best Halla could come up with. _Why did he want to do this with me _today_ of all days? Why did I say _yes? She plucked the last two pins from her hair quickly, her shoulder stinging as she reached up.

Feeling Ailith's eyes boring through her back, Halla turned, combing all of her pale shining hair over her shoulder. She met Ailith's gaze with vulnerable blue eyes. There was nothing to say or do, save pray that Ailith accepted her accuse.

Ailith blinked fast, and whatever tears in her grey eyes were denied. Halla could see a thousand thoughts running all at once through the older woman's mind. For a moment, Ailith was locked in the horror of her own memories.

"Forgive me, my lady," Ailith mumbled, dropping a curtsey. "I will just lay your nightgown and robe out for you, then be on my way."

Halla watched in uncomfortable silence as Ailith draped a lovely new white on white embroidered nightgown over a threefold dressing screen of oak with linen paneling. A rich dark blue robe, trimmed with silvery fur, followed. Ailith curtseyed again, and fled the room. Halla sighed so hard she almost melted into the floor. More than anything else, Ailith seemed to be a prisoner of her own memories. Halla didn't want Ailith to be upset, but she was grateful that the older woman was too wound up in her own ordeal to think overmuch of Halla's lie.

_And even if she does consider it later on, the truth of the matter is likely too preposterous to everyone… Would it even cross their minds that I had fallen in love with one such as Maukurz? _

All the same, Halla was glad that she'd gotten Maukurz away. _Things will die down now. I'll stay here each day, doing just what's expected of me, and everyone will forget their suspicions. Which can, of course, be nowhere near the truth! _Halla unlaced her gown quickly, and climbed into her bath, hoping the hot water would relieve her unstoppable trembling.


	13. Chapter 13

To her utter relief, in two days Halla got her period.

She was feeling a little safer for other reasons as well. Ailith was ever polite, giving no sign of having connecting the blooming bloody roses on Halla's coral gown with Finnan's suspicions. And Halla made sure to be seen by someone on the property all day, each day. She kept Ailith beside her constantly; without any fear of discovery, Halla found she enjoyed the sensible woman's company. Having worked as a cook, a lady's maid, a stable-hand and even in a brewery in Edoras, Ailith knew all manners of impressive and interesting things about the wider world.

But Halla longed constantly for Maukurz. His absence was an ache that woke her in the night, when she was surprised to find herself tossing and turning in her sleep, gripping the flesh of her inner thigh tightly as if trying to remind herself of Maukurz's hard, possessive touch. Life seemed dead without him. An oppressive heat settled that week, stifling Halla, bringing dark, ominous clouds that reflected her mood without Maukurz.

And then, after seven days had passed, Halla woke to the sounds of the Riders thundering away from the manor. Halla hurried to her window and threw the shutters open, watching the Men galloping north along her land. She couldn't see if they entered the woods or climbed the mountain. She could only hope that they didn't.

She startled with Ailith opened her door, bringing in Halla's breakfast of warm bread, rich butter, and small ale.

"What's happening?" Halla asked, skipping all greetings and pleasantries.

"Scouts found some raiding party to the North, I think. And Ailen said something about the forest, though he was too excited to make much sense." Ailith set the tray on the small table before the cold, dead fireplace. "Hopefully all this business will be over soon."

Halla closed her eyes, not knowing who she should pray to, for surely none of the powers would talk Maukurz's side over the warriors of Rohan. She sat down to her breakfast but found herself unable to choke it down.

"Are you ill, my lady?" Ailith asked solicitously.

"The heat…" Halla said vaguely. She finally pushed the wooden tray away. "I can't eat this. I need to get some air." She stood up and pulled on her blue robe. "I'll be right back."

Halla hurried down the stairs. She pushed the door open and stepped out into the yard, her eyes to the peak of the mountain where the last of the thin snow-cover was melting away, flooding the streams and river. Somewhere in the high pine-forests was Maukurz's camp. Halla wouldn't be able to see if Riders were heading that way, under the dark cover of the forest. _Let him be safe…_

The day dragged brutally. Hot and dark, with no sun yet no relief from rain. By the end of the afternoon there was a thundering sound in the distance, and Halla ran to her window in time to see the _eored_ spilling over the high meadows of her land. Soon her property was roaring with warriors and the boasting calls of victory. She ran her eyes over each horse and rider, looking for black blood. The only bloodstains Halla saw were red, on the bare arms of Riders, drying thick and dark on the blade of an axe.

_Either way, there has been death,_ Halla thought grimly. But the Riders' numbers were not diminished. Halla looked about in the crowd for her husband, unable to find him. For a moment she feared that he fell, which would grieve her, even though there was no love lost between them. Halla's eyes landed on Edwyn, setting aside his helmet and pouring a bucket of water over his golden head. He was laughing, and Halla felt relief. Only then did she see her husband, trotting alone away from the camp, onto Halla's land, towards the woods where she had found Maukurz.

"Where is he going?" she mused out loud.

"Pardon, my lady?" Ailith asked, looking up from the flowers she was arranging into vases to spread about the bedchamber.

"My husband has left his shield-brothers, and is riding alone for the forest. Come with me, Ailith! Let's get out of here for a moment, and see what he's about. We can find out what happened today…" Halla hoped Ailith couldn't hear the desperation in her voice.

They ran outside together, hearing a low rumble of true thunder coming from behind the mountain. "Maybe we will have rain," Ailith said hopefully as they crossed the drying, dying grass of the meadow. "Crops aren't ready to come up, and this heat's liable to burn the harvest at the root."

"I should hope not," Halla said. "We lost last year's harvest to fire in the War. The villagers can't endure another poor year—"

Halla stopped in bewilderment once she reached the crest of the hill. Against the woodline, bare-chested riders in breeches were hammering spears into the ground, each a good twenty paces apart. Lord Finnan was supervising. Two riders were hauling what looked like a sheet between them-a blood-soaked sheet-which they set down before the first stake.

One rider withdrew something from the sheet, something he could hold in his hands. He raised it to the top of the shoulder-high stake and rammed it on. Then he backed away, and Halla screamed.

It was the unmistakable dark head of an Uruk, spit on the spear, his long dark mane hanging listless in the thick, motionless air.

Ailith took a look and clutched her hands to her throat. "They're back," she breathed in horror. "They've come back."

Finnan had heard Halla's scream. He motioned for the warriors to continue their grim task, turned his horse, but before he could come to her, Finnan saw Halla running to him, her skirts hiked immodestly to show her slender legs. The woman Ailith followed behind with deliberate, strong steps.

"What _is_ this?" Halla gasped as she reached him. She closed her hand on Finnan's reins, a gesture that set his teeth together on edge for some reason. Ailith marched straight past them, walked to the decapitated Uruk head, and set her hands on her hips. Finnan heard the woman spit. He turned back to his wife, who was utterly horrified.

"Don't worry, Halla. There were only a few of the beasts about. Our battle was with a raiding party of Dunlendings: look for yourself down the line. But we'd found traces of an Orc or Uruk in the woods: a torn blanket, clawed up trees. So we set the hounds to a little hunting, and found a bunch of them, quite weak and ragged." Finnan sighed at his wife's womanish terror. She was chalky pale and teary eyed. "I can assure you—"

Halla wasn't listening to him anymore. She dropped the reins and hiked up her skirts again, and ran to join Ailith. She was terrified to see Maukurz, the golden eyes drained of fire and life…

But as soon as she got close she knew it wasn't him. Wasn't anything _like_ him. In fact, this Uruk was like none she'd seen before: far paler, with bulbous rounded features. Odd red eyes—glazed with death—stared back at her. She hurried to the two others, seeing that they were quite distinctly regular Orcs.

"That there's a Mordor Uruk," Finnan informed the women. "Likely a straggling survivor of the last battle, travelling with several more of his kind, at the two smaller imps."

"Where are the rest?" Halla demanded, breathless.

Finnan frowned. It was uncommonly ghoulish of Halla to want to see the severed heads. "We burned most of the bodies… These will be left on my land for the next week or so, as a warning."

_I'll never know. Not until he comes to me. And if he never comes back…_ Halla bit her lip, tasting the sourness of bile in her spit. She was sure she'd vomit, or collapse in tears. No one seemed to notice her distress, as if she didn't matter at all.

"Were there many, my lord?" Ailith asked. She had forced herself to look, to confront it, and was now glad to turn away.

"About six, Ailith, but hardly a scouting or advance party. The War is over. You should have seen the bodies on these foul creatures: all ribs and bones. They were barely alive as it was."

_Though_, Finnan thought, _it was odd and disturbing that we found Orc-sign so close to home, then lost the trail, then found these quite far to the north of here. Almost as if they were not the same..._

"Well done, my lord," Ailith said.

Finnan bowed his head chivalrously. "It should be all over now, Miss Ailith. We combed the area for miles around, sparing nothing but the eagles' nests."

Halla gasped softly. She looked pointedly away from the lofty mountain rising before her, feeling some small bit of hope. Finnan smiled politely at her, glad to see that she'd recovered her composure. "It is well time to get this land yielding a little income, don't you think, madam?"

"I don't…" Halla shook her head tightly, anger replacing hope. "I don't like this. I don't want _heads_ on my property. It's repulsive. Crebain will come, and all sorts of scavengers. It will stink of death."

Finnan straighted up, irritated that she would criticize him, especially before the help. "It is not in your remit, Halla. This grisly fence is a warning to whatever raiding party, or anything else, that would seek to come onto my land. It will not be left up for long. Comfort yourself with that."

He wheeled his horse around and trotted away, towards where the two warriors were spitting the pale heads of Wild Men.

"Sometimes it's hard to know the War is over," Ailith murmured.

"Is it?" Halla asked softly. Her eyes blurred as she looked at the thick black hair of the dead Uruk, blowing in a sudden hot, dry wind.

* * *

"You gonna let someone try that bow, or are we gonna keep livin' on birds' eggs and leaves?" Shatauz motioned to the bow as he sat down, offering Maukurz water from an Isengard-issue canteen.

Maukurz drank gladly, but he was in a grim mood. He missed Halla in his guts—and other throbbing places. And he'd seen Flaguz sniffing around Baiurz one time too many. He'd caught Flaguz staring at him, and sensed the threat hard. And he was all but completely immobile, relying on the help of others even to have a sip of water, or take a piss at the mouth of the cave.

He eyed up Shatauz: the two of them had fair history together, locked in at night in the bull pens of Isengard. Shatauz was a remarkably resourceful Uruk, a master of manufacturing or obtaining Isengard's black market weapons, food, or contraband—which meant damn near any item save a tunic, breechclout, and sandals once those gates locked for the night. Maukurz didn't think robbing birds' nests was near good enough for one of Shatauz's cleverness. But he hoped Shatauz wasn't being too clever for his own good now. He hoped he wasn't conspiring with Flaguz. "You askin' me for my weapon?" Maukurz asked.

"Nothin' like that, Cap," Shatauz said quickly, showing submission with hunched shoulders and open, upturned palms. "Just hungry for some meats, like you said you'd get us."

"And I _will_," Maukurz growled. "When I can _walk_ again. In the meantime," he said, leaning around Shatauz and raising his voice, "I might have to shoot somebody in the fucking throat soon!"

Flaguz was outside the cave, roasting a two day old fish he'd found floating in a stream. He kept his back turned to Maukurz; but his ears pricked backwards, missing none of the arrogant Maukurz's taunts.

"He's still sore about that fight you had," Shatauz said, shaking head.

"He thought he'd take my place… dunno what good he thinks it would do him out in the wild. That ass-ugly scheming little shit face got more than he asked for jumpin' me."

"You beat him pretty thorough, Maukurz," Shatauz replied. Narzum walked in then, carrying the half-eaten leg of a mountain goat he'd found near a lynx trail. Shatauz bobbed his head in greeting, his mouth watering even though the meat was old and tough and stinking of rot. Then he looked back at Maukurz. "But it was that other part that got him hatin' you for life, I think. Prolly rather you killed him than did _that_ while he was down."

Maukurz laughed. "What? He wanted to get _fucked_, but I wouldn't fuck him with _your_ cock!"

"Talkin' about cum-face?" Narzum chuckled quietly.

"Maukurz won't give up his bow so we can hunt. Gonna shoot cum-face in the face. Again!" Shatauz cackled cheerfully… but softly enough. He had no desire to take on the burly, ill-tempered Flaguz himself.

"Narzum," Maukurz said, waving the lean Uruk over. "Forget that maggoty, fucked up looking goat leg and go get us something warm and bloody."

Maukurz locked eyes with Narzum, nodding sharply. He passed over the bow and a few arrows. Narzum's grin spread ear to ear, and he plucked the string with his fingers. "Sorry Shatauz," Maukurz said, "You ain't nearly the shot Narzum is."

"So long as I _eat_ something _fresh_!" Shatauz declared, but they all knew the truth: Maukurz wouldn't have trusted anyone but Narzum with his bow and arrows.

"I'll be nice and give Flaguz the asshole of whatever Narzum kills," Maukurz said.

"Hey, you said that's what he's sad about anyway…" Shatauz laughed. He settled down near Maukurz, and began to sharpen one of his hand-made knives, this one made from a piece of an old _akrum_ flaggon.

"Lemme get see that when you're done," Maukurz murmured softly.

Shatauz nodded without even looking up. He had five knives for himself, and he liked keeping the Captain's favor.

Maukurz leaned back, his mouth watering already for fresh meat. Meat that didn't need cooking, soft meat that slipped right off the bone. How long had it been? Maukurz couldn't stand being crippled anymore. He bent his left leg at the knee, and gritting his teeth through the pain, tried to put his foot flat on the ground. "Wish we had some _drink!_" he grumbled, growling at his pain as he forced his heel to the cave floor. There was nothing at all for Maukurz to do, and so he spent a good long while testing himself, feeling around the split Halla had made, and wondering if there was some way to hurry up his healing. When the pain in his leg got too great, he lay back and thought about Halla: remembering her smell, her smile… the way she felt taking him in. But rather than being pleased by these thoughts, and maybe giving himself a nice little hand job, all he could think about was whether or not she was safe, and missing him as he missed her.

Maukurz jerked up at the sound of footsteps, hoping Narzum had some quick luck. But it was old Baiurz with his grey-streaked hair and blotchy skin. Flaguz hurried behind him, skulking in the Commander's shadow.

"Guess what we got now, Maukurz. Riders _all over. _Out on the steppe below, and even in the woods!"

"That white-skin told," Flaguz said, narrowing his eyes at Maukurz.

Maukurz shook his head angrily, wishing he could put a quick end to the stocky fuck. "She wouldn't," Maukurz insisted, looking to his superior. "I already told you, sir, she's mine all the way through. She wouldn't rat me out."

"She's a white-skin!" Baiurz barked. "You can't trust them!"

"The Riders are out looking for Dunlendings," Maukurz said. "That's why she brought me back here, because she knew they were gonna be out in force. She _saved_ me. I can trust her."

"_Trust!_" Flaguz laughed, thinking Maukurz had gone soft.

But the Commander narrowed his eyes and said, "You'd better be right about that, _Captain._ Or we're all gonna pay for your mistake."

Narzum came back into the cave then, a deer slung over his powerful shoulders. "Who wants fresh meat?"

Baiurz glared at Maukurz for another long moment, shaking his head. He liked Maukurz a great deal, thought the young Uruk was strong and well trained. He wondered what in the world could have happened to make such a steady, _heartless_ warrior trust anyone, let alone a white-skin. It wasn't just good cunt, Baiurz was sure, no matter what Flaguz said. Maukurz had had enough of that to last ten lifetimes, and he knew the young captain wasn't above a little play with his fellow warriors when he got hot. Yet what else could a white-skin offer? Baiurz was stumped on it, and deeply curious to understand. "Go ahead, eat up," Baiurz sighed, and Narzum tossed the fresh, warm corpse to the ground.

* * *

That night, a waning moon illuminated the mouth of the cave just enough to help Flaguz's keen eyesight. They'd not dared a night-fire with Riders about, which was better for Flaguz. He slid the long, sharpened stake he'd made into his hand, then crept silently to the back of the cave.

Thankfully—and rare enough to be surprising—Maukurz slept alone. Narzum and Dagalur lay together, sprawled all over each other. Shatauz had rolled towards those two in his sleep, resting his head on Dagalur's calf. Maukurz lay unguarded, and totally exposed on his back. _Stupid cocky fucker,_ Flaguz thought, grinning. _Think you're untouchable, that it? I'm about to prove you dead wrong, you miserable maggot!_

Flaguz dropped softly to his knees, crawling forward with stealth, eagerly envisioning ramming his stake right through Maukurz's guts. He'd like to ram it other places—that would serve the long dicked sack of shit just right—but he knew he had to kill Maukurz quickly.

He crept so close he could feel the heat coming off Maukurz's nearly naked body. He held his breath, though he was feverishly excited. Flaguz raised the fire-hardened stake over Maukurz's stitched belly, ready to ram it in with all his might.

But at that perfect moment, the golden eyes opened, confusing Flaguz. The stocky Uruk didn't have a chance to think about it. With one quick motion, Maukurz knocked the stake away and grabbed a hard hold on Flaguz's hanging tunic, yanking Flaguz on top of him. Flaguz squealed and shrieked in pain as Maukurz stabbed up into his guts over and over again with Shatauz's makeshift shank.

The entire cave came awake in an uproar. At first they thought it was Maukurz's black blood they scented filling the air, until Flaguz somehow flew up in the air and then hit the ground as limp as a gruel sack, his intestines hanging out of a hundred different crooked gashes. Maukurz sat up growling fiercely, his body slicked with Flaguz's blood and his cock hard from the kill.

"You're fucked nice and sweet now, ain't yuh?" Narzum murmured in Flaguz's dying face, staring gleefully into the tan eyes until they went blank. "I _knew_ it was coming."

"Maukurz!"

Maukurz, panting, lips curled in fury, looked up at the Commander. He expected full punishment, and had no intention of going down easy. He spread his arms open, clutching the bloody knife tightly and waiting for Baiurz to jump on him.

Baiurz looked at the other three Uruks, relieved that the scent of blood hadn't triggered them to tear each other apart. "Stupid fuck," Baiurz hissed, giving Flaguz's body a sharp kick. He looked furiously at Maukurz. "And you too, goading him on! Don't think I missed your shit-talking! Now we're _five_. And unless you whelped that _sharlob and_ she has a mind to join us, we ain't getting' no more! And I for one don't feel like watchin' the last little bit of our kind doin' each other to death!"

"What could I do?" Maukurz growled. "He was comin' for me some time, no matter what I did! I'd rather get it done in my time, not his!"

Baiurz hissed nastily, furious but unable to do anything about it. It wasn't so much Flaguz's loss—he was a pain in the ass anyway—as the fact that they were a dying breed, and Baiurz was running out of the will he needed to keep them going each day, without anything in sight but death. He looked at the other Uruks. "You all with Maukurz on this?"

Narzum spread his hands and said, "Flaguz jumped him. Twice now."

"He had it comin', sir," replied Shatauz.

"And you?" Baiurz asked Dagalur.

"I'm with Cap'n."

"You're a lucky little fuck, Maukurz. But worthless as a cock growin' out the back of yer head! You better get your crippled self together, _pushdug_. At least Flaguz would have been able to _fight_ if those horse boys come sniffin' around up here."

Shamed, Maukurz bowed his head, nodding.

Baiurz turned to the others. "Since you fucks are fine with this, you get to clean up the mess. We ain't eatin' him neither! He is—was—one of the last of our kind, and I ain't rewardin' you all with flesh-spoils. Bring him to the wolf caves, and leave him there. Now get it done!"


	14. Chapter 14

The Riders were gone, but in their wake came a group of lean, hard muscled Men of varying ages, following Finnan out to the high meadow near the woods. Halla was curious about them, but she asked no questions, and by the time she and Ailith returned from a ride through the fields, the bay mare in the barn had dropped her foal. Grinning, Halla looked over the stall door, happy to see that the new colt's coat was either dark brown or true black. "Looks like you got your wish, Ailen," Halla said.

The stable boy grinned, setting his pitchfork aside and leaning against Miss Matilda's stall. "He's a good one, too. Up on his feet good and fast. Nursin' well, too, as you can see. And I'm hopin' to have another pregnancy soon, but Golden Star ain't lettin' Thunder cover her long enough to shoot off his load—"

"Ailen!" Ailith snapped, pinching her little brother's shoulder. "Your pardon, my lady!"

Halla laughed. "It's really no problem."

"Oh, but it is!" Ailen complained. "Don't matter what ol' boy does if the baby-makin' stuff don't go where it needs to!"

"What's the matter," Halla asked. "She won't stand still? Or she's fighting him?"

"Kicks him right off as soon as he mounts her. I'm a little worried she'll break his leg or something, if she keeps it up."

"Well… Perhaps she's not in true season just yet. I wouldn't let him free-cover her. Bring them in from the field and use the run, but wait another day to put them together, and take it slow."

"Lord Finnan told me to hobble her," Ailen said, and his sister made a face of revulsion.

"No," Halla said. "Don't do that. Likely she's just at the beginning of her season; she'll take him ready enough when she goes on all the way."

"Thanks, Mistress!" Ailen said cheerfully. "I do hate the idea of hobbling her!"

"It's loathsome," Halla agreed. She turned to leave the barn, Ailith in tow. "Beautiful baby, isn't he? That's what you'll be doing, once you get your land. Dealing with fussy mares and little foals."

Ailith smiled. "I hope so. But I wanted to talk to you about something else. Being how they're going to put up a little camp for the loggers… Well, Blythe and I had a mind to make and sell our own ale. But I was hoping you'd let me go for the mid-day hour, so that I can sell them meat pies and waybread as well. Put aside a little extra for my farm, you see."

"What? Ailith, what are you talking about, loggers setting up camp?"

Ailith raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't _know_, my lady? Lord Finnan's cutting down some of the wood, to sell lumber all the way down to Edoras. There'll be a veritable village sprouting up on the high meadow in a few days."

"Finnan is cutting down _my_ woods? Setting up a village on _my_ land?" Halla cried. "No wonder he doesn't say a word to me, he knows I'd never allow it! He promised me sheep in my marriage contract, and said we'd keep the land open!"

Ailith widened her eyes in dismay. "I'm sorry, my lady… There's quite a call for building now, with the War being over. His lordship means to capitalize on it. He's even raised the fee at the grain mill to pay for expanding the saw mill."

Black with fury, Halla hissed, "The villagers of Birchleigh can hardly afford what they paid before! Perhaps instead of buying me all that awful, gaudy jewelry, he should have _lowered_ the fee so that his own people don't go hungry paying his tax! And if this drought holds and the crops fail…"

Ailith laughed ruefully. "His lordship is a mighty Man now; such is the way with Men of power. They must do as they will, for they shape the world. We—even you, your ladyship—just live in it. But Birchleigh will be building up as well, and that will make the whole village more prosperous."

"Well I will have words with him. I can't stop him it seems, but I can let him know how vicious it is. Raising fees on peasants so that he can turn a profit! What sort of rule is that? Grinding those not in power into the very ground? It amazes me how Men can wage war on some things, in the name of _freedom_ and decency, and then turn around and throw burdens onto the poor, and persecute the stranger, just to have the world _as they will_!"

"Hmm," Ailith murmured. "That is an interesting thought. But it's always been this way. And at least he does not _enslave_ the villagers, nor bring terror to them."

"No," Halla spat. "He just keeps the little children's bellies empty so that he can have new clothes and golden chains around his neck."

Halla returned the manor, not surprised to see Edwyn sitting in the hall, supping up the last bit of his stew with bits of crispy white bread.

"Hello Halla!" he said merrily. "Miss Ailith, you are looking lovely today, I must say."

"Did you know about this?" Halla demanded, dropping down beside the sweet-faced warrior.

"Depends on what _this_ you mean," Edwyn returned, grinning before draining a cup of good wine.

"The logging, the village going up on _my_ land… The higher fees at the Birchleigh mill!"

"Oh, Halla, you are plebian in your sympathies!" Edwyn laughed. "Of course I know of it. I advised him to set up the village, rather than bringing workers in each day. They'll pay you rent on their little huts, don't worry."

"I don't care about _that_," Halla said. "I care about the villagers who can't afford the fee! And with this awful weather! Only drops of rain in three whole weeks! What if the harvest fails?"

"With the fair weather we had at the turn of the year, much of the wheat's nigh ready to come in. It's a bumper crop, my dear. There will be plenty to go around. And before you go getting all fluffed up over the villagers of Birchleigh, you might like to know that _they_ are the ones hording their grain and re-selling it at a horrific prices. Just because someone _appears_ to be suffering, or weakened, does not mean they are always meek and kind."

"And just because someone is beautiful and well-to-do, it doesn't mean their heart is fair and just!"

"Halla, beautiful Halla…" Edwyn said, taking her hands. "This is how things are done. Would you have your husband give all this land away? Divide it amongst the peasantry, so they can run it into the ground while you and he starve? There must be _order_ for society to thrive. You are fortunate: your husband is one of those who keeps the order, and you, I think, like the benefits? The fine soft gowns, the lovely horses to ride?"

Halla sighed, caught on his point. "Still… If the harvest doesn't come in well…"

"Then we will think of something. Finnan has a good deal of grain on reserve, to hold against famine. And he will dispense it if needs be, and forego his fee at the mill. But surely there will be no famine _this_ blessed year. You should be glad: your fortune is on the rise. Lumber is at a premium these days, and there are fine hard woods in yonder forest, as well as much needed soft pine."

"I can do nothing to stop it," Halla said, frustrated.

"Precisely. You can do nothing to stop it, so you might as well enjoy it. Where's all that high color and fiery glow you had a few weeks back? I miss _that_ Halla."

"It ran away," Halla said bitterly.

Edwyn smiled gently, and poured more wine into his cup. He handed it to Halla. "Then drink up, lovely, and put a little heat in your cheeks. There is nothing worse than the sight of a beautiful woman moping herself into plainness. Shall I summon a minstrel tonight? Have a little music and song?"

"Do what you like," Halla replied, draining the cup and rising. "But tell _him_ I am most displeased."

Edwyn bowed mockingly. "I am your messenger, my lady."

Halla stomped up the stairs, Ailith in tow. As she climbed, she wrenched a thick gilt bracelet off her wrist and passed it to Ailith. "Here. Use this to start your business. I can't stop them from building a village on my land and cutting down my trees. You might as well make _your_ dreams come true."

Halla's displeasure registered with her husband about as much as the scant drops of water made a difference to the dry, parched earth. Within two more hot, dry weeks, there were a full dozen hastily erected dwellings on Halla's land, and the loggers were calling their camp High Meadow as if it was a permanent settlement. Progress was slow, but soon Halla started seeing the forest retreating, leaving behind ugly dead stumps. She was beside herself to see such beauty destroyed, but everyone else was thrilled. The saw mill ran all day long, and logs floated down the river like schools of massive craggy sturgeons. But the wheat was withering where it stood, and the charcoal grey skies hinted at rain and rumbled with thunder, but delivered nothing save hot, dry wind. The peasants of Birchleigh squinted their eyes fearfully to the sky, and watched in horror as their near-ready crops sagged lifelessly in the fields.

At least Ailith was doing well. She told Halla how much ale and treats she sold as she brushed Halla's long pale hair smooth. "And since they've brought their families, business is better than ever. Soon I'll be able to pay someone to sell food and beer all day long."

Halla smiled softly, her fingers smoothing over the golden, glowing amber necklace, draped almost prayerfully in the silver tray. "You might as well build a little wattle and daub tavern, Ailith. I can do without you much of the time. It would make me happy to know you're on your way to buying a bit of land, and some good blood-stock."

"You seem so sad, my lady," Ailith said quietly. "You are not happy with your husband. Does he ever come to bed?"

Halla laughed grimly. "You've not figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out, my lady?"

"Nothing," Halla murmured. "We are not… friendly with each other. He has no liking for me, nor I for him. I would much rather be like _you_, Ailith: a single woman making her way in the world. No one ever told me such a thing was possible."

"Well," Ailith said briskly. "No one told me either, exactly. But I had little choice in the matter. The marriage I had hoped for… It fell through, that's the best way to put it. No one wants a wife who was used by Orcs. I don't blame him."

Halla exhaled a shaking breath, forgetting what she'd wanted to say. "I… suppose… Well… You have your freedom now, in a manner. You are far freer than I."

"Yes," Ailith said, "I am free. Oh my lady, don't be sad! I know he isn't very affectionate to you, but your husband holds you in high regard, I'm sure. Especially now… that his… _suspicions_ have been proven wrong."

"I'm for bed, Ailith," Halla said quietly. "I'll fetch my own nightgown from the trunk."

"Good night, my lady," Ailith said, laying down the ivory handled boar-bristle brush, and retreating from the bedroom.

As Halla changed and slid into bed, a loud crash of thunder tore over the mountains. Halla lay in bed in the darkness, wondering how much thunder there could possibly be without the usual accompaniment of rain. And then, she caught a faint, musky scent in the air, a damp earthy scent. She heard slow pattering outside her window, and then the skies opened and blue lightning flashed, and the downpour began. Laughing, Halla ran to the window and threw it open, taking the sweet, wet water on her face, on her tongue. _Finally…_ she thought. The harvest would be saved.

But then she heard crashing sounds, and thumping against the roof. To Halla's horror great balls of hail pelted the house and the grounds, covering the earth in moments and striking at the wheat all over Birchleigh. After a while the pelting stopped, but the thunder kept crashing and the rain fell hard, making streams of the parched grass fields around the manor house. Halla closed her eyes, pushing away anxieties about the harvest, and willed herself to sleep.

Some hours later—when the thunder rumbled a little softer, and the rain had slowed somewhat—Halla jolted awake. She blinked in the darkness, not sure what had woke her.

Then she heard it again: a _scratching_ sound, like a cat wanting to come indoors. Halla sat up in bed, frowning, listening for the source. She stepped out of bed and looked about the room, her eyes freezing at the window she'd thrown open.

Maukurz was in the window, running his claws softly down the shutters, grinning at Halla with an intoxicating mixture of lasciviousness and deep gut desire.

Halla leaped from the bed. "What are you _doing?_" she whispered, delighted and terrified. She ran to the window, looking down on him. He couldn't come through the window, it was far too small, but he clung to the rough stones outside. A white blossom was tucked behind his ear. Maukurz plucked it out and tossed through the window, to the floor at Halla's bare feet.

"I promised you I'd come, didn't I?"

Halla could hardly speak. His presence had such a powerful affect on her: she was thrilled, the pleasure of his body and his easy conversation instantly recalled. And she was terrified. He looked quite savage in the darkness, illuminated by flashes of lightning. Finally recovering herself she asked, "Are you quite sure no one saw you?"

Maukurz nodded slowly, savoring the warm scent of her arousal. "Everyone's scared of the storm. But not you, I hope. Hurry up, Halla. I can't wait no more."

With that he released the window, dropping to the ground far below in silence. By the time Halla made it all the way to the window, he was gone. But she could see, just barely, a trail of white flowers in the mud. Halla laughed aloud for sheer delight, and ran to tug on her blue robe.

She crept out of her bedroom and down the stairs, relieved to see that Finnan wasn't sleeping in the hall. _He must have a little love nest somewhere with Edwyn, somewhere I'll never know about._ But Finnan's wolfhounds were there, and their heads were up and their fangs bared as they growled at the darkness, sensing Maukurz.

"Shut up, you ragged things!" Halla hissed. Then she pushed open the door. The rain had turned the stairs into a dock emerging from an enormous, flooded puddle. There was nothing for it, so Halla ran down into the water, soaking the bottom of her fine nightclothes in mud. The rain poured down so hard it was difficult to see, and the wind whipped her hair about. But then a flash of lightning illuminated the grounds, and Halla saw a trail of white flowers leading to the hay shed. She grinned manically and hiked her gown up, running for the hay shed. The door was slightly ajar. As she came, Maukurz pushed it open all the way and grabbed her hand, pulling her inside.

He was all over her right away. Pulling her into the bales of hay, yanking off her robe and pulling up her gown. Halla threw her nightgown over her head and embraced Maukurz, holding his hot, hard body tight against her own, savoring the heady, male scent. Maukurz rushed to discard his ragged loincloth and breechclout, gasping "I don't know what you did to me, but I can't fuck nothin' else."

He lifted Halla and lay her down in the hay. Maukurz was deeply excited by his illicit presence on the horse boy's estate, and his cock was swollen like never before, pounding and throbbing mercilessly. He pushed his hand between Halla's legs, feeling her slick and ready for him without any help on his part. He nearly swooned as he lined himself up and prepared to drive himself home.

But then she caught his hand. "Wait—" she gasped. "Wait, I don't want to get pregnant…"

Maukurz jerked his head away, frowning. "What?"

"You have to be careful," Halla whispered. "You can't… inside me. I can't get pregnant, surely you know that…"

"Why _not_?" Maukurz demanded, his heart pounding in his throat. "Halla, don't tell me you're never gonna leave him…" He shook his head darkly.

"It's not that…" Halla pleaded, reaching for Maukurz's face.

He jerked his head back, out of her reach.

"Maukurz!" Halla whispered. "I adore you, I _need_ you… But there are things I must make sense of here, can you understand? Finnan is exploiting my land, and exploiting the villagers. I am their lady! I must do something for them!"

"You're _my_ lady," Maukurz murmured. "Or I thought you were."

"Yes, I'm yours! But I'm just not _ready_ to leave yet! And… well, having a child—an Uruk-hai child!—is a rather huge commitment! I want to be settled first. I want to be safe, with my land disposed properly, and with some way to ensure we'll make it on our own! Please, Maukurz," Halla moaned, gripping his powerful hips and drawing him close again. "Please don't mistrust me… It's been so horrible without you… Is there no other way I can prove my love to you?"

Maukurz groaned, unable to resist much longer. She had soothed him a little, though privately he feared she would never be fully his. Yet this was only his first night back with her. And she was young, and certainly frightened. Maukurz wanted whelps, _badly_ since there were so few of his kind left, almost as if it set off some manic breeding instinct in him. But, he realized, he couldn't _force_ Halla. He hadn't forced her into his arms, and she'd come to him beautifully. He realized he could be patient with whelping her as well. He pressed his body down on her again and she moaned in pleasure. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her throat, nipping at her softly. "You gonna let me all over you, then?" he asked, pushing his cock teasingly against her, entering her just barely and then pulling back, delighting in torturing himself along with her.

"What do you mean?"

"You gonna give me what I like…" Maukurz grinned slyly as a flash of lightning poured down from the loft and illuminated his dangerously beautiful face. He broke away from her, running his tongue between her breasts, kissing his way down her belly. He pushed her legs apart roughly, but before he buried his face in her sex he stuck a finger in his mouth, tearing off one clawed nail and spitting it into the hay. Then he flickered his rough tongue over her teasingly, and she wrapped her long legs around his shoulders, sighing deeply as the first thrills of pleasure assaulted her.

* * *

Ailith awoke with a start, frightened by the loud banging. Flashes of lighting lit up the kitchen as the storm raged outside. The wind howled again, causing another loud bang, and Ailith realized that the storm had blown one of the shutters open. She stood up from her humble bedroll, seeing a pool of water growing on the floor beneath the window. Ailith walked to the window and reached for the shutters. She brought one in with some effort, fighting against the wind, finally getting it closed and redoing the latch. But the second shutter seemed to be stuck, and the rain kept pouring in, getting perilously close to a huge bag of flour she'd bought to make her pastries.

* * *

Halla jumped in surprise. Maukurz had her lifted, her legs still on his strong shoulders. His tongue swept down, touching her in a place she'd never thought to be touched before. She heard his low laughter humming against her body; he was delighting in her shock. He played a little longer, exploring with his tongue, and then he looked up and murmured, "Feel good?"

Speechless, Halla nodded. Thunder cracked overhead, and Maukurz drew her up, onto his lap. He'd brought her to climax once already, and she was more than ready for him. Moaning loud, Halla took him in, drawing her nails down his back as his achingly huge cock pushed her open and buried deep inside her. Maukurz sighed the sigh of a warrior returning home, and wrapped his arms around her. For a while it was good enough—sweet and thrilling and tender—just to rock Halla against him, drowning in her clear blue gaze, watching her lips quiver and her eyes close as she took her pleasure. And he had to go slow now, holding himself against his own climax. But he was too much for her, the exquisite sensations making her push hard against him, then retreat as she was overwhelmed. Maukurz bit his lip and trapped her hips in his hands, refusing to let her have peace, driving her deeper into bliss. She threw her head back, arching her back, her ripe breasts in his face. Maukurz kissed them, taking a berry pink nipple in his teeth and pulling gently. But then he felt her shiver; he felt her hot cunt grip him hard, and he knew she was coming again. He ran his hands down her body, over her hips, cupping her plump, small backside in his hands. As Halla cried out with the force of her pleasure, Maukurz used her body's wetness to slick his finger, and then he pushed his finger slowly inside her from the back.

"Oh! Ohhh…." Her breath came in a shudder and she clung to him, listening to his deep purr in her ear. "What… what are you…"

"Doin' what you said, and what I like." His other hand gripped her hip tightly and he rolled her hips back and forth fast, shattering her again, feeling her come all over his belly as she gasped for breath. "My turn," he purred.

He withdrew his finger, and pulled her off of him. Halla whimpered and pressed her hips back at him, insatiable.

"Turn around," Maukurz told her. Halla looked at him with wide eyes, as if she'd guessed it. He nodded slow, grinning wickedly.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Maukurz took her shoulder gently, and turned her away from him. She lay flat on her belly, which he figured would probably be best anyway. Even as slow as he planned to take it, she wouldn't be able to hold herself up. "I'ma be good to you…" he promised, whispering in her ear as he lay over her back. He braced his weight with one arm. The other hand reached down, and pulled her legs apart. "Nice and wide," he crooned. He reached his hand between his legs and rubbed her incredibly damp sex, drawing the wetness back. Shaking with desire, Maukurz spread her backside apart. Halla gasped, sucking her breath as he began to work the swollen head of his cock inside.

* * *

The fasting was busted on the windowsill. Already drenched from standing out in the storm, fighting with the thing only to have it fly open again as soon as she got inside, Ailith now concentrated on moving the supplies away from the growing puddle. She was sure she could handle it; there was no reason to wake Blythe or her sleeping brother. Her arms were strong from years of work, and she dragged the flour sacks away with little trouble. Then she moved a cauldron under the windowsill, to catch the rainwater pouring in from the open window.

But soon she realized she had to get that window shut. And that meant going back out in the storm. Ailith put her sodden cloak back on and pulled up the hood. A powerful sense of unease filled her. But she went out the door all the same, and around the kitchen, the hayloft behind her a good fifty paces away. The pounding rain muffled all sound, and it was terrifying to have her vision so limited, especially in the blackness of night. Ailith set her hands on her hips, looking at the shutter for a moment, bending her mind on the problem to avoid the odd, instinctive fear she felt. _War-time is over,_ she thought. Then she had an idea.

* * *

Maukurz rocked gently over Halla, one hand soft and sweet between her legs, easing her as he pumped into her tight backside, the other wrapped around her jaw, his fingers cupping over her lips to keep her rhythmic, moaning cries quiet. His own growling purrs and harsh, gravelly breath were loud enough to betray him, but Maukurz couldn't help it. He had never felt anything so _good_ in his entire life. He wondered how no other creatures—including her kind—could smell the heavy scent of sex in the air.

Soon the powerful sensations carried him away, and for a moment he got wilder, thrusting deep as his climax built. Halla cried out and bit down on his fingers in protest, and he shot off violently inside her. "_Fuuuuck…_" he groaned, wrapping his arms around her. Shivers went through him as his seed pumped into her. He bit down on the back of her neck lightly, holding her with his teeth as he pressed his hips hard against her. His powerful orgasm lasted for long moments. Then he rolled off of her into the hay, panting on his back. "Fuck!" he said again, trembling down to his guts. He looked over his shoulder as she pushed herself up. "You… alive?"

Halla shook her head, a small smile on her face. A low, far off roll of thunder clapped outside the shed. "I don't think so," Halla told him.

"Aw, damn," Maukurz replied, grinning. He drew her into his arms. "Come here, _ashgaz…_"

Halla lay her cheek on his chest. She was breathing hard too, trying to put herself together again. "Where… did you learn _that?"_

"Oh there's all _kinds_ of fucking," he said, playing softly with her hair, running his knuckles gently down her back. "But that's one of the best for me."

"It's… a little scary. But then really, _really_ good. And then really painful… and then everything all over again."

"Yeah," he said, laughing. He sighed, closing his eyes. Her hands smoothed over his skin, her fingers running gently over the raised scars that ran over his chest courtesy of an Isengard bullwhip. The roaring fire in him had quieted, and Maukurz lay still, murmuring softly to Halla and listening to the beautiful storm, perfectly content.

* * *

"There!" Ailith said, pleased, although she wasn't sure that the heavy cooking spoon would hold up. Just then a gust of wind came through as if to test her. The shutters rattled, but held, and Ailith said, "Finally!"

She turned around, surprised to see through the lessening rain that the hayshed door had blown open. She wondered how the wind had lifted the heavy latch. She began to walk towards across the muddy lawn, but then that same fear arrested her, making her stomach tighten. _Stop being a fool,_ she scolded herself, walking on.

But as she reached the door, _Lady Birchleigh_ came out, in nothing but her nightgown! Halla didn't even look around, she just grabbed the door and pulled it shut again. Ailith wondered if something had happened in the hayshed. She thought maybe the storm had brought leaks, leaks that would mold the hay and make it poisonous to the horses. Figuring this was her horse-loving lady's concern, Ailith walked to the hayshed and pulled open the door. "My lady—"

Ailith felt the world shatter around her.

Halla sat up, horrified beyond imagining. She scrambled out of Maukurz's arms and jumped to her feet, begging at once. "Ailith, Ailith _please…_"

But Ailith wasn't looking at her at all. She was staring dead at Maukurz, gripping her belly as if she'd be sick. She was obviously terrified of the sight of a stark naked Uruk-hai laying in the hay…

Then Halla looked back. Maukurz had risen. And he was staring at Ailith too, his golden eyes narrowed, his head tilited. Then he looked back to Halla and sighed heavily.

"_You…_" Ailith hissed, and Halla looked back into her maddened eyes, and knew the truth.

Ailith turned and fled.


	15. Chapter 15

It looked like something was broken inside her eyes. Maukurz grimaced, shook his head a little. She was seeing _him_ for the very first time, the truth of him. He didn't know what to say. _It was the War_ sounded very much like bullshit at the moment. "You gonna go get her?" he asked softly. "Before she screams it from the rooftop?"

Halla caught herself and nodded. "You should leave."

"Fuck that. I'm not going like this. Go catch her, bribe her or whatever you need to do. Then come back."

"And if she tells the Men up in that camp?"

Maukurz grit his jaw. "Then I'll run. But be waiting for me to come back. I wanna _talk_ to you."

She agreed, sadness bleeding from her eyes. Maukurz watched her go, then sank down in the great pile of hay they'd lain on, bending his elbows on his knees, thumping his head softly against his crossed arms.

* * *

Halla shot out of the door. Ailith was gone, and Halla ran for the kitchen, her bare feet covered in mud and her white nightgown clinging to her indecently. _Taken as a whore by my husband's servants!_ she thought desperately. But Ailith was standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the door. She'd _puked._ Halla felt horrible for her.

There was nothing to do but walk up in plain sight. Shivering and drenched, Halla clutched her arms over her body. She stopped before Ailith, looking the older woman straight in the eye. "Are you going to tell?" Halla asked softly.

Ailith blinked at Halla in shock.

"Say something," Halla pleaded.

"Say something…? What the _fuck_ are you doing, Lady Birchleigh?"

"It's not what you think. He doesn't mean anyone any harm."

Ailith's eyes were wide and furious. "Not what I think!" she hissed. "That's one of the demons who raped me, Halla! He destroyed my life! What is he _doing_ here?"

Halla felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She hadn't wanted to believe it. "He came to see me," Halla admitted softly. "Not to hurt anyone."

Everything came together for Ailith in one shocked moment. "This is the affair you've been having! Have you lost your mind? Ask him where his _friends_ are! Like dogs, they hunt in packs! You will meet them soon, if you keep this up. My lady I am _most_ appalled. Why would you do it to _yourself?_"

Halla stared through the rain at Ailith, not wishing to be judged anymore. "Will you tell, Ailith? He will kill me. Lord Finnan, I mean. You know he will. And everyone will say he is right for it."

Ailith turned her head in disgust, sighing through her teeth. "I can't stay here. I can't work for you. You are a madwoman. And I won't be close to that _thing_, that _monster_ you've brought into your very home."

"No, Ailith, please don't go! My lord will wonder why you leave!"

"Yes, he will. And the beast bit you up already. I imagine when your husband accuses you, he will strip you. Didn't think of that, did you? Or did you imagine these Men haven't seen those sorts of scars before? I know one thing: the monster knows what he did, putting that bite on you. He knows it's the very thing to send a Rider of Rohan into a fury. Do you know what it means, I wonder? He's _claimed_ you. He _wants_ Lord Birchleigh to see it. It's what they _do_ to us… and you lay down for it, didn't you? Willingly!"

Halla grit her jaw, shaking from more than the cold. "Will you _tell_ Finnan? Will you _leave_, and bring his suspicion? Please, Ailtih… I'll give you _anything_ you want. I will build your tavern, out of wood, and start you off too. And he… he will never come here again. But _please_…Ailith…" Halla shook her head, desperate.

"Do you have any idea what he _is_, child?" Ailith breathed. "What's he done to you, to make you throw away your life like this?"

Halla turned her face away, tears in her eyes. "Just tell me, will you expose me!"

Ailith let her cringe for a long, deliberate moment. Ailith did not want to go along with this disgusting insanity. She also felt a deep welling of pity for Halla, who was obviously a sick little girl. If Lord Birchleigh would do any less than kill Halla, it would be her duty _to_ her lady to tell someone. But the stark truth was, Finnan would put Halla to death. It was against everything in her conscience, but Ailith said, "No. I won't expose you. But I do pity you, my lady. I doubt I will be able to hide it well. And if he comes here again, I am gone, and I _will_ tell. You have my word on all of it."

"Thank you," Halla breathed, unable to meet Ailith's piercing stare.

Ailith turned immediately and went into the kitchen, shutting the door hard in Halla's face.

Halla felt stripped and utterly alone. She had never longed for her mother more in her life, the mother she hardly remembered. There was nothing to do but turn around and walk back to Maukurz. She stepped over one of the pale white blossoms, carelessly tossed on the muddy lawn.

Halla pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. Maukurz—dressed again, if she could call it that—slipped out of the shadows, leaning against a wooden beam.

Tears came to her eyes fast, and Maukurz came to her at once, hugging her close, comforting her. She was so _cold. _For a moment it felt so good to Halla to be held in his warm arms. And then betrayal and anger came back violently and she twisted around, trying to get away. "Halla!" Maukurz murmured, "Halla, stop…"

"No!" she hissed, shoving her palms into his chest. He tried to hold her, but she wrenched a hand free and slapped Maukurz in the face. He ate it easily, but the shock of being hit by her stunned him for a moment. Still, he'd eat a thousand more blows, if that was what she needed to be happy with him again. The only thing he wouldn't do is let her go. He looked down on her, awaiting her judgment.

"You raped her!" Halla accused bitterly. "You let your _friends_ rape her!"

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "In a raid."

Halla sagged in his arms. She'd expected him to deny it, she'd wished he would deny it.

She wished she could deny that she knew what his kind did, but she'd known that from the beginning, when she stitched his belly and wrapped his leg, and brought him back to life. And she'd known it when she'd let him put his hands and his mouth all over her... when she _delighted_ in his touch.

But still, to have it brought home so brutally! It was one thing to think Maukurz had done bad things to faceless strangers, but Ailith! Ailith's words taunted her mercilessly. Crying, Halla asked, "Did you mark her up too?"

"Halla it was a long time ago—"

"_Did you put marks on her?_"

"I _did_ but—"

She twisted away again, sobbing, "Because that's what you do too, right? So that our Men will see it and know you've had one of their women? It's a game, right? And I'm your revenge?"

"NO!" Maukurz barked, frustrated, scenting every little emotion she felt. It wrung his guts painfully, feeling what she must have been thinking of him. Halla was frozen in his arms, fear spiking all around her. Maukurz closed his eyes, gritting his jaw, repeating with a forced calm, "_No._ You're not no fucking _game_ to me, Halla! You're the best thing I've ever had! Maybe the _only_ true good thing I've had!"

She cried softly, hating how good his arms felt around her. Hating herself for yielding so easily to his comfort. Shame rocked her nearly off her feet.

"No, don't do _that_," he groaned. "Don't feel _that way. _Not you…"

"How _could_ you?" she whispered, struggling to control herself. "How could you hurt her so badly? You probably never think about it, do you? But d'you know _her life_ is ruined? Everyone knows, she can't marry, she won't ever have babies—"

At the thought of babies, Halla broke off, feeling even sicker. Had Ailith _drowned_ Maukurz's child? Or was it one of the others that he'd let rape her? It was all too horrible to consider. Halla grit her jaw and asked, "How many, Maukurz?"

"Halla…"

"No! I want to know! No more secrets, no more surprises! Your friends weren't lying a bit about you, were they?"

He shook his head tightly, closing his eyes, feeling her slip away from him even as he held her in his arms.

"How _many?"_

"I dunno," he murmured. "Hundreds," he said, hearing her groan in agony. He figured he might as well put it all out. "In the raids… In the pits… I couldn't count them all if I tried. Half the fucking army was my seed, probably."

"The pits," Halla echoed. "You mean, when women were stolen…"

"Master had 'em in cages. They'd tell me who and when, and I'd do it. Ten a month, maybe. For three years."

"So it wasn't your fault-!" Halla began desperately, looking up at him with shining tears. "The wizard made you, you would have been killed or worse…"

Maukurz shook his head. How he would have loved to let it lie at that! But he couldn't look into her eyes, so trusting, and spit lies at her. He brushed his fingers over her cheek and whispered, "No, Halla. It ain't that easy, it ain't that clean. The raids… that was all me. And the pits… Well, I _liked_ it. So it don't matter if I was told or not, or what they would have done to me if I'd refused." His gut turned, watching her innocent face as he told her, each word like a knife twisting in her belly. "But Halla… can't that be over now? The War's done, and I'm not running around… doing that shit anymore. I just want _you._ You said it right, Halla, I love you. I know what it means now. I know what it feels like, and I couldn't ever want anything else. Can't we just forget what I did?"

"I don't know," she cried. "Can any of those women _forget?_ Can my serving woman forget? The look on her face when she saw you… It was like she was seeing a monster. That's what she called you, a monster."

"That what you see?"

Halla stared at Maukurz, shaking her head slowly. "No… oh my—_no…. _But I don't know anything, do I?"

"You know what you feel, right? Halla?" he asked her desperately.

"I don't know what I feel anymore! And now… Well, she's sworn not to tell, but if she did… I would be condemned with you!"

"Then come away with me! Right now, let's go! I stashed my bow in the woods—what's _left_ of it—and I'll hunt for you tonight. There are caves all over the place. I'll do anything for you, Halla! I'll die for you… and I'll live for you too, each day. Fuck these people! They lie on what they feel, they feel one thing and say another, and if they could hurt you just for saving me, and having a little pleasure… Fuck them, Halla! Come with me, and you won't ever have to hide again." Maukurz gripped her hands tightly, drawing them to his lips. "I am _sorry_ for what I did. I will _never_ do it again. Damn, Halla, let's get out of here!"

Halla shook her head sadly. "I can't… I'm sorry… It's just… It's too much… Oh, Maukurz, this hurts so bad! I'm so confused…"

"Shh…" he breathed, holding her again, clutching her head to his chest, his fingers in her dripping wet hair. She was so cold… _Far too cold to make it in the woods tonight_, he thought miserably. "Shh, Halla," he murmured. "Don't hurt. Don't think. I'm so sorry, _ashgaz. _You go home now, sleep by the fire."

"You lied to me," she whispered, clinging to him now.

"I just didn't _tell_ you. I didn't want… _this_."

"You can't do that anymore. I want to know everything. If I… If I do walk beside you, it can't be blind and dumb to everything. That isn't fair. You have to let me judge for myself if I can love you in spite of all… all you did in the War."

He laughed harshly, without any joy. "But what if you can't? I was _made_ to hurt you all. I'm choosing not to now. Why would you wanna think about what I did then? Why not see me as I am now?"

"Maybe I will," Halla said. "But I must have that choice. Do you understand?"

Maukurz, wide eyed, shook his head. "No! Scares the shit out of me, too. But if that's what you truly want… Well, next time I come you can ask me whatever you want. And I'll tell you."

Halla smiled softly, sadly, catching how he snuck in the promise of his return while agreeing to her terms. "You can't come back. That was the condition of her silence."

Maukurz groaned. "So… you ever gonna come looking for me? Or have I lost you?"

"I'll come," Halla whispered. "When I'm ready. I don't even think you understand how awful what you did is, do you?"

Maukurz shrugged limply. "How I'm supposed to understand that, Halla?"

She shook her head, horrified. The distance between them—in culture, lifestyle, upbringing and morals—was a thousand miles wide. Maybe too wide, after all, to ever be spanned. And even with all that, she knew she didn't want to let him go. Halla took his hand and lay it against her cheek, closing her eyes to the sweet, penetrating warmth. Then she pulled away. "I have to go."

"Wait," he murmured, releasing her. He walked to the hay bales, where he'd hastily hidden her robe after the woman's interruption. He retrieved the soft garment, full of her sweet scent. Standing before Halla, he wrapped her tightly in the damp robe, wishing more than anything to take her in his arms beside his own fire. "There," he said quietly. "That's a little better, right?"

Tears poured down her cheeks as she nodded. Then Halla forced herself to turn and walk away from him. Maukurz stood behind her, shaken, grasping for the empty air.

* * *

Halla woke in the morning confused, her head pounding from sobbing herself to sleep. Ailith was standing over her, shaking her firmly. "You must wake up."

"I'm up!" Halla cried groggily, snatching the covers around her.

"Your husband is downstairs. He wants you dressed in something rich but plain and modest, with gloves and breeches beneath for riding."

Halla cringed, feeling brutally sore all throughout the lower parts of her torso. She looked up at Ailith, wondering if this was some specially devised punishment.

Ailith met her gaze coolly. "I believe there were many fields damaged by last night's storm, and he'll be wanting to see. And the villagers will be wanting to see you both. They will be afraid."

"I'm up," Halla repeated, sitting up while desperately trying to conceal how achy she was. Her heart beat irradically, remembering what Maukurz had done to her in the hayshed. And then remembering how she'd left him. "I want a hot bath," Halla said, "with chamomile in the water."

"There's no time, my lady," Ailith said. "He wants to go as soon as possible."

Halla flushed, mortified. She'd collapsed into bed as soon as coming in late last night. She hadn't even washed. "Bring some water, then," Halla insisted, "and a _washcloth._ I will _not_ see his lordship like _this_. I will pick out my own outfit while you're gone."

Ailith bowed her head coolly, and walked away. Halla hugged her arms to her chest, groaning at the coming torture to her body.

She forced herself out of bed, and walked to her new oak wardrobe. It was true that Finnan spoiled her lavishly, wanting her to look the part of a noble lady. Halla picked out breeches, and then a cornflower blue gown that matched her eyes, with delicate white embroidery around the hem and the long drop sleeves: a white web of flowers. _Flowers like the ones littering the lawn,_ Halla thought, flushing. She picked a short green-grey surcoat of Gondorian silk, one with a high neck and many small pearl buttons. Nothing could make her look _more_ tightly bound up. _Just the way Finnan wants me._

Ailith returned with the water, and Halla insisted on washing and putting her shift, petticoat, and gown on in privacy. Once she'd stripped out of the robe she'd wrapped around her naked body the night before, Halla saw red marks from Maukurz's claws on her hips and thighs. Frantically, she checked her neck in the mirror; fortunately, his gentle bites had left no mark in the daylight. Halla caught her breath sadly, seeing him lying breathless beside her on the hay, wildly handsome, grinning boastfully yet tenderly, asking if she was still alive. _Come here, _ashgaz…

Halla washed herself quickly then, not daring to look at her body anymore. She pushed aside the hot memories that threatened to intrude, the feeling of his weight on her as he…

"My lady, are you ready for me?" Ailith called.

"Yeh—yes!" Halla called, lacing the last stay up the sides of her blue gown. _Maukurz wrapped me up against the cold. His very heart was as broken as mine. Whatever he's done, he loves me. Why can't that be enough?_

Ailith came in, and the sight of her face was a guilty torment. The older woman finished dressing Halla in silence. She coiled the front of Halla's hair back and set it with an ivory comb, then pinned a cornflower blue veil over Halla's long pale hair with pearl encrusted lady's tiara. Halla tugged pale doeskin gloves on, and laced up her riding boots. "Thank you," Halla said quietly, torn between misery and shame.

Ailith nodded curtly.

Finnan actually smiled to see her coming down the staircase. Shamelessly, Edwyn was in his breeches and loose linen shirt in the hall, his long curls falling perfectly over his shoulders. Halla was certain she understood the nature of _that_ relationship now. Edwyn grinned up and her whistled softly, and Halla thanked him profusely in her heart for that gesture.

"Very lovely," Finnan said with cold approval. He was dressed much more crisply, in his knight's uniform without the scale armor. His green cloak was pinned with a golden broach, stamped with the seal of the king. Halla was only glad he couldn't see the awkwardness of her gate. Maukurz's delight had taken more of a toll on Halla than she'd realized.

Sitting in a saddle was misery, but Halla was determined to ride tall. Her colt followed Finnan's roan charger out the manor gate and down the land towards Birchleigh, the river rolling along beside them, high from the storm, but an ugly muddy color from the logging. And then the devastation began.

The hail had pounded entire chunks of fields into the ground. "Help us," Halla murmured on seeing the devastation. She nudged Silverfire, and trotted up beside Finnan, jarring her body with each step of the horse's gate. "You will lower the fee at the mill, won't you? And give the people grain for their bread?"

"Be quiet," Finnan said crisply. "You are here to be _seen_, Halla, and nothing more. D'you understand?"

Stung, Halla frowned and prepared a retort, but her husband cantered out ahead of her, leaving her behind with the armed guard he'd hired for the day.

They rode up on the village of Birchleigh, two main avenues of large cottages, with many other homes dotted around the town haphazardly. The jewel of the town, the twin mills, sat on two shallow cataracts of the river. A handsome stone bridge crossed the river into a strand of birch trees that the villagers tapped for their famous birch beer. Beyond that was the Gap of Rohan, nothing but open grasses until the city of Edoras and the rising White Mountains, brilliant hazy peaks on the horizon.

It would have been a peaceful setting, but for all the villagers gathered in the town square. Halla was afraid of their numbers, and agonized by their thin, fearful faces. Finnan and his soldiers rode right into the middle of the crowd, his war-horse cutting a fearful pattern before the peasantry. Steel flashed on the belts of Lord Birchleigh and his Men-at-arms. But a rumble went through the crowd when they saw the open, compassionate face of Lady Birchleigh.

"My good people!" Finnan called, leaning forward in his saddle. "The storm has cut our hopes down a ways, but I am here to assure you, this village will be cared for in days to come!"

A hopeful cheer began among the villagers. Halla saw sooty-faced old Men with little children clutched by the hand, and hard eyed matrons with their shining gold hair back in modest white kerchiefs. Halla was frightened to see want in every eye. It made her turn to Finnan, an open question in her bright blue gaze that wasn't missed by anyone.

But Finnan didn't see her. He was telling the villagers that great prosperity was coming. New-made merchants would leave the work of the field behind and rent shops in the heart of the town. Shops made of wood, built to last generations. Shops, and houses too, that would be lived in by the families of Birchleigh for many long years. It was a hopeful image for a people putting their lives back together. Yet Halla watched Finnan crossly, disgusted that he was hawking his—_her—_wood when he ought to be telling his people how he would help them! To her dismay, they were eating it up.

And then the bulk of the soldiers that rode with Finnan, six of eight in total, pulled out purses and cast cheap coins into the crowd. Finnan and the two front soldiers, and Halla, cantered off toward the mills. Halla was astounded, staring down the road at the numbers of carts offloading fresh lumber at the saw mill. Finnan was reducing Halla's forest lands at a rapid rate. But they reined their horses in stopped at the grain mill.

The miller was a thick bodied Man with a neatly trimmed red beard and a round belly, a stark contrast to the thin villagers. Finnan trotted right up to him, and leaned low in his saddle. Halla heard him say, "Give them one week at half-price. All in all, were still looking at more than we brought in last year."

Finnan didn't even wait for a response. He circled round the miller and rode past Halla, meeting her challenging glare with a wall of coldness. The two guards wheeled about, and by the time Finnan trotted to his other six, the peasants had grabbed for the coins and long since been pushed back. They all wheeled about to follow Lord Birchleigh. Halla had no choice but to turn as well, and canter off behind them.

* * *

That night, Halla sat at her vanity, listening to an owl hooting in the night. She took the necklace of gold and amber and lay it over her wrist, and then she sighed, caught between desire and guilt. _I knew what he was when I saved him_, she thought. _And I know that he could have taken me that night I slept in the woods, but he didn't. He was bold…_ She smiled slowly, tears in her eyes, remembering Maukurz snatching up her gown and running his big, strong hand up her thigh. She remembered the confident, daring look in his eyes as he'd done it. _But he didn't _take _anything. Nor did he let his… his friends. I can't reconcile the Maukurz I know with the monster Ailith speaks of. The monster he admits he was, without even understanding how evil he was._

Ailith came in. "Do you want your bath, my lady? Blythe is here, and we can bring up your tub."

"Please," Halla said, refusing to look at her. At the same time, she didn't want to wash her last night with Maukurz off of her fully. She fancied she could smell him, faintly, on her skin. For the first time she wondered what a son of his and hers would look like. She smiled. _He would be a little falcon, a little hawk, as strong as his father. But innocent, too._ Halla immediately scolded herself. _What am I thinking? Does it matter nothing what an _enemy _he is to my kind?_

The women brought in her tub, and filled it with great pots of boiled water, carried over from the kitchen. Ailith set a kettle over Halla's own fireplace: the harvest was coming in, and this night, after the storm, was full of crisp air and starlight. "You may go," Halla murmured, unlacing her gown.

"You needn't get out to warm your own bathwater," Ailith said quietly once Blythe went down the stairs. "I know your secrets."

Halla dropped her eyes, mortified. She slowly shed her gown and shift, letting them fall in a pool around her feet. With her hair still pinned up, Maukurz's mark was prominent, a raw red scar on her shoulder, standing out even more now that the deep accompanying bruise had faded. Halla climbed quickly into the tub, sinking down in the warm water. Ailith dragged a stool to the head of the tub, sitting behind Halla. She tugged the ivory comb out of Halla's hair, letting the pale, slick locks tumble over her shoulders. Halla smoothed her hair down over her left shoulder, covering Maukurz's mark. She looked up at Ailith abashedly. It was a horrific torture to think of Maukurz assaulting her. It was horrific that Halla could see, easily, how terrifying it would have been. How terrifying _he_ would be, if he set himself to it.

Ailith met the young woman's mournful gaze for a moment, then looked away. She too, was unable to imagine what she'd learned. The very thought of it was revolting.

"Did you hear what he decided in the village?" Halla asked softly.

Ailith nodded briskly, leaning her hands on her lap as Halla stroked a washcloth along her arm. "His lordship," Ailith said, "offered a one week amnesty on half the grain-tax. My brother told me, from his friends in the village."

"And what do you think?" Halla asked.

"I think…" Ailith said slowly, "I think it is a quite… conservative measure. Accounting for—so Blythe says—the fact that this year's harvest, even with the blight of the storm, is greater than what was burnt out last year."

"I think it is hideous!" Halla exclaimed. "The people are already hungry. They were counting on this year being bountiful!" Halla turned in the tub, looking up at Ailith. "You should have seen it. Their faces, I mean. So gaunt, yet so hopeful. And he led them on with dreams, and gave them so little relief. How can they cheer that?"

"Perhaps they expected nothing," Ailith said.

"Perhaps he told the miller in secret," Halla said. "The coward. He didn't dare tell them what their _relief_ would be." She sunk deeper into the water, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "I can make no sense of the world, or anyone in it, let alone myself."

Ailith had no comfort for the young woman she no longer wished to serve. She went to the fire to retrieve the kettle, and poured more boiling water into the tub. "Do you need me for anything else?" Ailith asked quietly.

"No," Halla murmured. It was odd, but she could feel Ailith's discomfort as if it was her own. _Perhaps this is what it's like for Maukurz… sensing emotions, fears… Yet then, how could he not know how awfully he treated her? _"You may go, Ailith. But…" Halla opened her eyes, seeing the older woman standing by the door, drying her hands on her apron. "Thank you… Thank you so much…"

Ailith bowed her head tightly, and closed the door behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

After just two days, life had become intolerable. Finnan was as cold and distant as ever, and the slow warmth of friendship developing between Ailith and Halla was irrevocably shattered. Halla was in agony, and there was no one to talk to. Everyone living in the manor—save Ailith—regarded her with polite indifference, following Finnan's commands and saving fellowship for their own families and friends in the village. Ailith looked at Halla as if she was an insect crawling over the supper plate. And Maukurz… where was he now? Halla could quite feel him pining for her, his face hidden in shadow and his eyes watching the trail for a sight of her that never came. Yet every time Halla longed to go to him, she felt horribly wicked, and inevitably Ailith's cold, knowing gaze settled upon her, reminding her of just why she ought to forget Maukurz forever.

The harvest began, the villagers pulling in the bulk of Lord Birchleigh's crop before attending to the little strips of land they were permitted to lease from him. Taking the advice of older landowners, Finnan rode out to make his presence known, to oversee tallies, to show off the pack of mercenary soldiers he'd hired to give a good show of force at his first harvest as lord and master.

That afternoon, he'd taken his dinner quickly, leaving Halla alone at the table with Edwyn, who as a pampered young son of an extraordinary house seemed to have no other peace-time purpose than idylling in pleasure. Watching Halla scrape her food around listlessly, not touching a bite, he took the large jug of wine and his silver chalice, and moved down the table to sit beside her. He filled her own cup to the brim, and after taking a deep-throated sip, he murmured, "You know, if I didn't have it on such good authority that you were a lady of unimpeachable character, I might suspect you were pining for a lover."

Halla looked up fearfully, hating what an open book her face must be.

"It's all right, sweeting. There are many judges in this world, and likely more in the next. But happily, I am not one of them. And since I myself am damned seven times before breakfast…"

"You belong to _him_," Halla said quietly.

Edwyn made a sympathetic face. "I don't betray the secrets of ladies, Halla. And certainly never the secrets of beautiful ladies! Besides, I can't stand to see you so unhappy. You are casting a pall of misery over the entire household, and it sets my teeth on edge. Now… can I assume he's someone horrendously socially inappropriate? Someone low and common, and roguishly handsome?"

Halla couldn't help smiling a little, even though there were fresh tears in her eyes.

Edwyn grinned knowingly. "Ah, that's ever the case, is it not? You might be surprised to know it darling, but you're not the first, nor the last, lonely noblewoman to take up a little outdoor sport with, shall we say, a colorful character. So, has he left you, or you he? Drink up, honey, this might take a while."

"What might take a while?" Halla asked, sipping her wine and utterly grateful for Edwyn's kindness.

"Why, putting a true smile on those luscious lips of yours, of course! You are built for pleasure, darling, anyone with knowing eyes can see _that._ It is my _duty_ to restore you to your natural state."

Halla grimaced. "Does everyone… suspect me? Of… of a lover?"

Edwyn eyed her carefully, turning serious. "No. Not anymore, that is. For a while there, your husband was in a frenzy that you'd do something stupid and ruin his reputation. But two months have passed, and there are no bawdy songs sung of you in the mead halls, so he rests content. It's your discretion he values most, you know. Appearances are everything for those of us who dance to different tunes."

_You've no idea, Edwyn,_ Halla thought. She said, "I've no wish to shame my lord. Or anyone. Least of all myself."

"There's no shame in love, Halla; again, so long as you are _discrete._ Who can be the judge of what makes another's heart sing?"

"I think a good many people would be," Halla said, drinking a little deeper.

"Well that is why you don't ever let them find out! But short of that… these _people_ are not between the sheets with you at night, so to speak. In a perfect world, who delights you wouldn't be any of their concern. So don't let it trouble you, what others might think of whoever he is that brought such a charming flush to your cheeks."

Halla closed her eyes and drew a deep, hard breath. "Edwyn… I'm not admitting anything…"

"Of course not," he offered.

"But… what if… he… if there was such a _he_… What if he'd done awful things?"

"To you?" Edwyn asked, frowning in concern, making Halla wonder if there was _any_ expression at all that wouldn't be marvelously beautiful on Edwyn's face.

"No, of course not! But what if… during war…"

Edwyn narrowed his eyes. "A warrior, how interesting... I won't ask, I've no desire to reveal him. That would put me in an uncomfortable place with Finnan, having a name. But on this mystery warrior's behalf, I might say that battle takes the soldier into some very dark places. If he has disburdened his conscience with you, well, I might call him a fool for doing so, but if he has… You must understand one thing: there is only one purpose to war, and that is the complete slaughter of enemies. Whatever needs to be done to accomplish that _is_ done, and a good deal many more things as well, so that we might put terror in their hearts. And it isn't thought of at the time. Many of us never think of it again."

Halla sighed, shaking her head. "What of warriors… who… who enjoy those dark things? He is not a soldier of Rohan, so you know… and he fought for someone else, not for his own land. He has nothing at all to call his own."

"Are you in danger, Halla?" Edwyn asked softly. "Is this warrior dark with _you?"_

"No," she said certainly. "Never. This… friend… he would never… Oh, Edwyn, he is wonderful with me! Which makes it all the worse. How can I be so happy with him, if he has such blood on his hands?"

Edwyn sighed. "_Not_ one of Finnan's new mercenaries…"

Halla shook her head tightly.

"Good, that. A coarse, oafish bunch, they are. Not the type to make a lady of your caliber swoon! But may I ask, is he still in the service of this lord he fought for?"

"Not at all," Halla said. "He all but repudiates him. And those things he did. Though… I don't know how much of that is for my benefit. He survives now as a hunter. He will not go to war again."

"Then I think, perhaps, you must listen to your heart, and forgive your friend his past. It seems he is trying to put it behind him as well. But let me warn you… It is not a fair world, Halla. We Men rarely pay when we play in gardens unlawful. But you, a noblewoman… If you were to turn up pregnant, and there is no doubt that it is _not_ Finnan's child, I'm not quite sure what he would do. He's a good Man, in his way, but there is a coldness to him that even troubles me. And he will kill for his honor; that much I know. My best advice to you would be to do what countless in your place have done: keep your lover, but keep him at arm's length, and be certain he will hold his tongue about bedding Lady Birchleigh. Your life counts on it. And give no one any reason to talk. Unless you lie with your husband near the same time as you lie with this one, so that your husband wouldn't doubt that it was his, never _ever_ get pregnant. And if you _do _fall for a child in such circumstances, find someone who knows how to fix it, or if you cannot do that, then disappear, and forfeit your name before you forfeit your life."

Halla nodded, sighing heavily. Edwyn had helped her, but she'd no doubt even he would react with disgust if he found out just who Maukurz was. And Halla wasn't sure that Maukurz had so much given up his old ways, or just ran out of opportunities to continue them. There was so much she still didn't understand about him. Which was why she knew she absolutely had to see him again.

"Edwyn, why are you doing this? You are Finnan's lover, yet you help me? Are you not angry with me?"

Edwyn sighed. "I told you why: I don't like to see you miserable. And I don't happen to think it's fair… how my relationship with your husband intrudes on your happiness. Between the two of us, I watched my father do the same thing to my mother for years, and her broken heart killed her. I hated him for it, and I swore I'd never mistreat any woman… and I wind up, in a great part, becoming him, watching you. Call this my penance."

Halla regarded Edwyn curiously. He shrugged lightly, refusing to be saddened by past memories.

"Now for that smile," Edwyn teased. "I think I shall take my own most ghastly inappropriate love on an extra-long hunt this afternoon. And then perhaps over to our favorite tavern for a nice supper. I likely won't return him to you until… oh, tomorrow mid-day at least? You'll just have to find some way to amuse yourself…"

"Thank you, Edwyn," Halla murmured, amazed and grateful.

"My pleasure, beauty. And when I see you tomorrow, you must be dazzling and utterly satiated, or I will be most cross with you."

Halla laughed finally, and Edwyn nodded curtly, his goal accomplished. He then stood and left the hall.

Halla didn't waste a moment. Ailith was taking her part of the day cooking pies and selling them to the loggers and their families along with her ale. If Halla was gone when she came back, Ailith could know nothing for certain. Within the hour, Halla was mounted on her horse, galloping around the outskirts of the camp, seeking another path into the forest. She had no idea how she'd find Maukurz; she couldn't remember the way to his hide-out if her life depended on it. She had to trust that he would find her.

She also had to swallow her anger. Fifty Men were taking down several trees each day. The cleared area was starting to travel up the mountainside. How far did Finnan intend on going? Would he strip the entire mountain in his greed? Halla couldn't even be sure how far her property went up the rise; during the War, all of it had belonged to Isengard. Perhaps it was Rohan's now, perhaps it was the new King Elessar's wood. Either way, what wasn't building up Birchleigh was floating sawed down the river, and then transported for sale to Edoras and likely beyond.

Once well away from the little mountainside village and the laboring Men, Halla turned Silverfire into the woods, her strong colt jumping hurdles of jammed up fallen stones and logs packed between the trees from some long ago winter's avalanche. Once deep into the forest Halla had to slow to a walk, picking her way through brambles and ducking low to avoid hanging branches. After a good long while of rough, slow, uphill travel, Halla finally emerged on the trail she recognized, though she was a great ways north of the place she'd found Maukurz. She reined her colt to a halt and sat with her hand on her hip, wondering what to do next.

Figuring there was nothing to do but go _up_, Halla legged her horse on, trotting briskly until the colt began to fuss. Ears flicking back, snorting the wind, and chomping on the bit, Silverfire worked himself up towards shying and bolting. Halla's heart lifted, knowing that Maukurz must be close. She dismounted and tied her horse off the trail, continuing up the trail on foot, looking around eagerly. From somewhere behind her, twigs snapped under heavy feet. Halla turned around.

She promptly came face to face with two hard-eyed Uruk-hai, with Maukurz nowhere in sight.

After a moment, Halla recognized them: the one who'd called Maukurz… _Iron-Cock_, a name Halla would _never_ forget, and the one who Maukurz had smacked upside the head. But knowing their faces was no guarantee of safety, and Halla stood frozen and wide-eyed on the trail.

"You the Cap'n's little girl, right?" the dark brown one asked her. Something that looked a lot like a handful of dead half-eaten squirrels hung at his side. Halla just stared, frightened.

"Yeah… that's her," the other one, tall and lanky, said, shaking his head. "Damn."

"Got nothing on her, fuckwit. Come on, lil girl, we'd better take yuh to him. Dunno what lurks in the woods… or what types of weird shit they do."

"You liked it," the lanky one mocked, striding down the trail. He looked back over his shoulder at Halla. "Comin'?"

Halla shook her head tightly.

The one with the squirrels came closer, and Halla backed away. He grinned at her and said, "Yuh know yer boy, right? What yuh think he'd do to us, we roughed yuh up?"

"He would tear you to pieces," Halla breathed.

"Just so," the Uruk said with a cheerful bob of his head. "Same as he's kick our asses plenty if we failed to get yuh to 'im. He's been our Cap'n for nigh two years now. So have pity on us, eh? Follow behind if yuh like."

"My horse won't follow you. How far away is he?"

"Circlin' a ways south!" called the lanky one, who had impressive hearing. "Says he's huntin', but he's lookin for you."

Halla felt her body tighten with excitement.

"Huhn!" the brown Uruk grunted, shaking his head as he caught her scent. "Lucky bast— Look, I'll go get him. You stay with Narzum. A nice, good ways away from Narzum."

"I won't touch big brother's _sharlob!_" Narzum shouted.

"All the same, lil girl, keep back," the brown one said to Halla, and then he went bounding down the trail. He stopped for a minute by Narzum. " 'member peaches? That raid before we got fucked up at the Fords? That first catch?"

"Yeah…" Narzum said, grinning.

"Think _hot,_ soft, happy peaches, just beggin' to be ate up. I'd keep 'er downwind, if I were you."

Narzum sighed heavily, and sat down on a fallen log.

Halla returned to Silverfire, stroking his neck softly. "I shouldn't have brought you," she murmured. "Maybe _I_ shouldn't be here…"

Yet at the same time, she could hardly wait to see him. Her heart was pounding, her belly warm. She kept looking down the trail to the Uruk peeling sticks on a log. _I wonder if…_ _No,_ Halla thought. _I will ask Maukurz about that. And I'll try not to be shocked._ Either way, unless this was some elaborate trap for her, the other Uruks seemed to hold Maukurz in something like high esteem. And apparently, he was their Captain in the War, and his authority held still, even through a broken leg. It spoke highly of him in some ways… and terrified Halla in others.

And then she saw him coming. Halla left Silverfire and began walking down the trail. Maukurz was solemn-faced coming towards her. His mouth was wet—with blood, looked like—which he wiped away with the back of his hand. His bow and quiver were on his back. A wind carried her scent down the trail, and Maukurz picked up his pace. Suddenly, all of Halla's reservations melted away and she ran for him.

Halla jumped into Maukurz's arms, crying, knowing that she never wanted to push him away again. He held her tightly, breathing her in. "You're not mad at me anymore?" he murmured.

"_No_…" Halla whispered. "I want to talk to you, but I'm not mad at you. I love you, Maukurz. I know that now."

He sighed heavily, savoring the moment. Then he set her down. He looked over her head, to where Nurzum and Dagalur were standing together, grinning like idiots. "Yes, thank you, get the fuck out of here now! Come on, Halla," he said, lowering his voice for her alone. "There's a nice place close by, far enough off the trail where we'll be safe… I _need _you…"

She had almost melted into his embrace. Now Halla drew herself back, her body humming already with thoughts of what he might do this time. She smiled brilliantly at Maukurz. "Let's go."


	17. Chapter 17

Halla and Maukurz were wild for each other. He brought her to a little pond fed by a falling stream, suggesting that they cool off in the fresh mountain water. But Maukurz had anything but swimming on his mind as he tugged madly at the frustrating tight laces of Halla's gown. For the first time she took him in her hands, stroking his engorged cock with her novice touch, and it was like sparks flying through him. As soon as he freed her of her ridiculously concealing clothes, Maukurz hugged her up in his arms and brought her quickly to the ground, getting inside her so hard and fast she cried out in surprise… and then she moaned his name, caressing his ears with the sound. He drove at her thoughtlessly, frantically, assuring himself on the most basic level that she was his still, that she trusted him and wanted him… And she was coming almost moments after, deeply excited by his rough passion. Sex games being something he'd been initiated to almost in his first breaths, Maukurz wasn't usually so out of control. But his fear of losing her, and his overwhelming desire for her had him senseless. At the last moment—or something just past it, rather—he heard her crying his name, telling him _no_ and _you mustn't! _His growl was a roar as he ripped himself out of her, his seed spraying all over her flat belly. He shook fearfully over her, gasping as he rubbed his insanely sensitive cock over the sticky mess on her stomach. _Fuck, I think I… Nevermind. Nevermind. _"Damn, Halla…" he moaned roughly. "I dunno… I'm sorry…"

Her innocent eyes were hazy with pleasure. Maukurz sat up, rocking back on his heels, watching with wide eyes as she gently touched her belly, and daintily placed the tip of her finger in her mouth. He grinned wolfishly, watching her taste him. _If she got pregnant, she'd have to come with me, and I'd have her all the time…_

_No. That's a fucked thing to think. I love her, and she said she didn't want it yet. But damn, I can hardly help it anymore._

Ensnared, Halla stared at his dark thick cock, which was hardly spent and shining with her juices. "I want more…" she murmured.

" 'Course you do," Maukurz laughed, grinning, crawling back over her obligingly. He found her mouth, kissing her, biting her lips softly; he nuzzled her neck and murmured, "Somebody made you just for me."

"Slow this time," she breathed, wrapping her arms around him. "And maybe… maybe that other thing you like… But gently..."

"You got it,_ taar __ậ__mbal…_" Maukurz purred, sinking into her again.

* * *

_Edwyn will be pleased, _Halla thought mischievously. _Satiated isn't the word._

Halla lay in Maukurz's arms, utterly content, tracing her fingers over his chest. "How did you get these horrible scars?" she asked softly, having never seen the cruel kisses of a whip.

"Uhhm… It's… I dunno..."

"No secrets," Halla reminded him gently.

Maukurz sighed heavily. "I don't think much about those first days, Halla. I was really young. But... Well… after I was… born… they put me in a room with other… other Uruk-hai. Made us fight, to see who was fit for the army. I won—of course, or I wouldn't be here—but that little shit _snaga_ pitmaster, he… After I won, I was all hot… Damn Halla, you sure you wanna hear this stuff? It ain't pretty. You're too sweet…"

Halla pushed herself up slightly, brushing her fingers tenderly over his smooth dark brow. "There is nothing you can tell me that will make me pull away from you, Maukurz. I can handle it. And after that business in the hayshed, with my maid… I really do want to know where you come from. No, I _need_ to know. So I can understand."

Maukurz whistled softly, a fearful but resigned look in his eyes. "It's nasty shit, _ashgaz._ But all right. It was my first kill, and I was bred to… to love it. Killing, blood… Everyone like me does, 'cept that shit gets my cock real hard. Well, when you're done fighting and you're all juiced up, a whole mess of little Orcs rush in with their clubs, to get you down. 'Cause you're a hundred times stronger, and tasting blood for the first time… They do it to everyone. But it pissed me off good, and while they were beatin' on me I ate it, and I went for the biggest one. I killed him, and then another, and pretty soon the little _snaga _were running away."

"What's… _snaga_?"

Maukurz couldn't help but smile. "I think I'ma teach you Black Speech. It sounds good on you."

She nodded, but her eyes were demanding.

"Right. _Snaga_ were the regular Orcs who served the Master. His pets, like, and his overseers too. We were bigger and stronger, but they had the power. But their clubs weren't putting me down, and I was ripping through them with my hands."

"Well they were beating you…" Halla said, eager to excuse him.

"Yeah, but I didn't feel it, I was so hot. And so they ran away from me, got on the other side of the gate quick as they could. I was gonna tear the bars out—was just learning my strength, remember, only a couple of hours old—but all of a sudden—and this I remember well, shit I can still _feel_ it… All of a sudden my head felt like I was gettin' stabbed in the brains. Couldn't see, couldn't move… It was my Master, you see, with his magic. He was watching me already for my size, and I suppose… I suppose I pleased him right away. Well, next thing I know, two big Uruks were on my arms, and the pitmaster comes back and he says, 'Damn, this boy's still hard…' So Master says, put him on the wall, teach him what to do with it, he's just what we need."

Halla tried to keep the appalled shock from her face.

Maukurz grunted. "You wanted it… Should I stop now?"

She shook her head gently, hurting for him already. She kissed his scars softly, murmuring, "It's all right. Tell me. Tell me everything."

Maukurz sighed, cupping his hand over her soft head. "So they held me, the other Uruks. And the pitmaster, he sends over this little faggot Orc who starts touching my cock, real nasty-like, spittin' on his hand. I didn't like it at all. I think I was mostly scared he was gonna rip it off, and 'course I didn't know what a cock was _for._ So I kicked him in the chest, right across the room. And I fought the two holding me, swingin' 'em on my arms, and the Master, I can hear his voice, and he's all, 'This won't do at all. Teach him respect.'

"So the pitmaster comes out with this barbed whip. He's stinking with fear, but he's more scared of Master than me, so he does it. That whip…" Maukurz closed his eyes, shivering a little. "It had somethin' on it to sting the cuts, can't imagine what. But it tore into my chest. You can see where. And the pain stunned me a little, I guess, because the two Uruks got chains on my arms. And they told me to stop being a dumb fuck, Master had treats for me that would feel good if I just quit fighting it. Now there's blood pouring down my chest, and Master took his hold on my mind… Not painful this time, just sort of numb-like. He points at me. And this time the pitmaster comes over himself. Gets on his knees, tellin' me how fine I am, how big my cock is, and… He started sucking on me, Halla. Rubbing my chest and gettin' his hand all wet with blood, then touchin' me all over, pushin' and pokin', seeing what made me jump.

"And I smartened up, I guess… But it felt… Shit, I don't know why, but it made me angry, even though it felt so good. I wanted to kill the little fucker, and Master knew it. He used to talk to me, not with his voice but in my head, and now he's tellin' me to stick my cock where pitfaggot got his finger wigglin' in me. He's tellin' me to kill him, to rip him up, but… but use my cock. And the pitmaster's got me close to coming, but I'm pissed and Master's tellin' me what for, and my chest is burning and stingin', and my cock is throbbing… And then the chains were released. Pitmaster heard 'em pop… Got this look in his eyes like he knew he was done for. And I… well, shit, I did what I was told to do. I fucked the life right out of that little prick… and the whole time, I'm hearing Master… I'm _feeling _him, like cold wind on my back. He was pleased Halla. He said I was his Finest Creation Yet. And then he took me himself to a little room—I didn't need chains or clubs or whips with _him_—he took me to a little room with…" Maukurz closed his eyes. "With a girl. He said, 'this is much sweeter, and not near as much trouble. You will like this most of all. Take her, and when she's done in, if you do her good I'll give you another.' And he watched me… fucking—_raping_—those little girls. And all I could think was how good it felt and how good my Master was to me… that and wondering why, seein' as he liked it so much—and I got a nose for that shit, Halla, believe me—why he didn't join in himself. He only touched me a little. Examining, he called it. And then he put me in with the others. Said we were the best of the best, and there would be good sport for us as soon as we had a little training with our weapons. You can imagine the rest, I think."

Maukurz sighed heavily, chancing a glance at Halla's face, terrified she would be looking at him with those same broken eyes she turned on him after the woman from his past showed up in the hayshed. And sure enough, Halla was crying, silent tears pouring down her face. "I'm sorry," he groaned, "I'm so fucking sorry, you _asked_… You said tell—"

"Shh…" Halla whispered, laying her fingers softly against his lips. "It's all right… I'm so sorry, Maukurz. I hadn't imagined… that you'd been so… so abused."

"_Trained_," Maukurz breathed harshly. "It… it set me up good all right… But I liked it all well enough after that, Halla. I don't make no excuses for myself. I've hurt a whole world of people. Women, mostly, but not all."

"I'm so glad you're away from him… from that _monster…_ I would kill him for what he did to you, my love!"

"No, you hush now, Halla," Maukurz murmured, tightening his hold on her. "You don't kill nothin'. You're everything good and gentle and sweet and clean. I don't wanna hear no kind of talk like that from you, never again. Besides, I think he's dead already, or something close to it."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"After Helm's Deep. I ran home with Shatauz, one of the Uruks you saw that day, and a few other survivors. The tree-monsters had finished their business but they were still lurkin' about, and we didn't dare get close. But we saw Master up high on the tower, in what Commander Baiurz called the _window of… appearances_ or some fancy shit like that. He was just lookin' down on the ruins of his fortress, on all the dead folks floatin' in the water. He didn't speak to us at all, he just went back in his tower. I sensed his weakness, and it scared me bad. I don't dare go back to see if he's still there, and he ain't callin' me like he once did. Got no use for me now. Some of the guys wanted to go to Mordor, but Baiurz said he had enough. So we roamed around with nowhere to go, and that's when we found Narzum and Dagalur like two half-drowned rats on the riverbank. I was beatin' on Narzum's chest and breathin' in his mouth, and lookin' at all those dead… all those bodies of good strong warriors… Well, I'd had enough too. Didn't want no more Master, least of all that fucked up Eye. I carried Narzum—clutchin' that damn drum he near got killed for—and Shatauz carried Dagalur, and we went lookin' for a nice hidey-hole. And here we are."

Halla shook her head, astounded. _Maybe if my people knew this, how the Uruk-hai were made and used and abandoned, maybe they would forgive them…_ "You care about Narzum," Halla said softly. "Were you two lovers?"

Maukurz laughed, a warm, rich sound that banished the ghosts of Isengard. "Something like that, and nothin' like it at the same time. We were penmates. You know what I like doing… well, he likes takin' it. Don't get me wrong, he ain't no bitch, he's one dangerous fucker. But a lot of us used to play at night. Master wound us pretty tight… lust and blood and hunger… it had to burn off somehow. I did some bad shit to other Uruks… Raped 'em good… But those were enemies who'd have done the same to me, or tried it with me, especially when I was a newborn. So I gave it back good, to show off my dominance. But Narzum… and a whole lot of others… that wasn't about fighting, or tryin' to put someone in their place. That was just about… I dunno, relief, warmth… Knowin' you ain't alone, that the whole world doesn't wanna gouge your eyes out and feed 'em to you. It feels great, too, but you know that. Especially with someone wants you to feel good too. Feels even better givin' it. I don't like takin' it so much. Fucks me up to have anyone—other than you—on top of me. But since I had you, I don't want nothin' like that from anyone else. I only want you. And I love that you want me… Halla, you have no _idea_ how good that feels to me. If there was one thing I longed for all my life, it was for a woman, a beautiful young woman like you, to want me as bad as I wanted her. I did… some things… in the breeding pits… some really mean shit, thinking of it now, not knowin' what it was I wanted but tryin' to get it all the same."

He hugged Halla again, and brought her fingers back to his lips to kiss and nip at. "But don't think it coulda been _any_ woman. There's something special about you, Halla. Like I said… Maybe whatever runs the world don't hate us Uruk-hai so much after all. Because I think you were made just for me. I never knew what happiness was until that first day I had you."

"Neither did I," Halla said truthfully. "When I'm not with you, I can't even eat. I feel dead inside. I feel… so lonely, like no one cares if I live or die. But then I come back to you, and the world is perfect and beautiful, and _I_ feel perfect and beautiful in it."

"You _are_ perfect and beautiful," Maukurz murmured, lifting her chin with his fingers. He felt awkward now, showing her all the ugly, harsh bits of him; at the same time, he felt oddly clean, as if in saying it out loud, he'd cast off his past. All he wanted now was for her to show him that her desire for him was unchanged, untainted by his confessions. And she eased herself up his chest, and put her sweet mouth against his, pushing his lips apart and tasting his mouth deeply. Maukurz groaned softly, holding her so tightly he worried he'd crush her. "You're safe here, Halla," he whispered between kisses. "You belong here, with me. Your place is with me. I know… I know you are a great lady, you have your peasants to look after… But I_ need_ you, Halla. All my life… it wasn't nothing before you, and I need to live now. I need you, _ashgaz_… Please come to me soon. I can't give you gold and fancy dresses, but I will love you forever, and make feel good all the time, and you'll never feel lonely or sad again."

Tears flushed Halla's eyes. She knew she was torturing Maukurz with her indecision. Lying in his arms, there seemed nothing in the world to return to, nothing worth leaving him for. Hearing about his horrible past, she wanted to comfort him as well. Maukurz, reassured by her affection, was already seeking comfort. Halla moaned softly, feeling his hands smoothing up the backs of her thighs, gripping her backside firmly, digging his claws into her skin just enough to thrill her and show her how bad he wanted her. She pressed another kiss to his lips, whispering, "I _want_ you, Maukurz… I _need_ you..."

He sighed, shuddering to hear those perfect, delicious words. Halla sat up, gazing down on him with rich love in her eyes. She took him in, moaning softly as she sank down on him, taking his enormous cock in till it was buried to the hilt in her small, tight body. Then she rocked him with slow passion, and Maukurz tipped his head back and closed his eyes, drowning in joy.


	18. Chapter 18

Twilight was settling in by the time Halla returned to the manor, her hair still wet from playing in the pool with Maukurz. It had been impossible to leave him: the pain in his eyes at her departure was too much to bear. He was so big and fierce and strong that somehow his vulnerability—on high display after his remembrance of Isengard—was all the more precious and heart-wrenching. Halla realized that her life at the manor was temporary; soon she'd have to find a way to escape it. Finnan had bought her a great deal of jewelry, and Halla wondered if it wouldn't be too wrong to take it with her, so that Maukurz and she might have some security. There were a thousand problems she could think of, all the things that terrified her about truly going to him. The first one, of course, was where they would live in a world that was hardened against them.

Halla pushed open the manor door only to be greeted by two snarling, attacking wolfhounds. Screaming, she ran straight for the long hall table where Ailith sat in waiting. Halla clamored to the top of the table before she recovered her wits and realized they could smell Maukurz all over her. "Get down! Down!" she screamed, trying to recover some semblance of authority.

Ailith hurried from her set by the fire, clapping her hands and shooing the dogs out the door. Halla, standing on the board with her hand on her heart, exclaimed, "Why he lets them sleep in the house I will _never_ understand!"

"Likely for protection," Ailith said, and Halla couldn't tell if she was being nasty or not. "Here, my lady, let me help you down."

"I can manage just fine on my own," Halla returned, hitching up her skirts and hopping onto a stool, then to the floor, ignoring horrific ache in her backside. Maukurz, for all his fierce passion, was patient with her and deliciously expert, but there was still a great deal of pain to balance the pleasure of that act. Flushing at memory of her last devastating climax, Halla smoothed her green gown and tucked the lose tendrils of her pale, hastily braided, wet hair behind her ears; then she looked up and smiled brightly. "Have you had supper?"

"Just a bit of bread and cheese in the kitchen. Lord Birchleigh doesn't like the help eating in the hall. But I had to wait for you…"

"I'm sorry, Ailith, I should have told you not to. You needn't _ever_ wait for me to eat, or anything else. But…" Halla grinned mischievously, "I don't think Lord Birchleigh will be troubling us tonight. Why don't you have Blythe bring up whatever delicious thing she's cooked, and then sit and eat with me? I swear I could eat an entire roast myself! And we must have wine as well. And you can tell me all about how your business goes."

It was a challenge: to put their differences aside, to resume friendship. Ailith was no fool. Halla had been pining away since the night of the storm, and now she was returned from a mysterious absence, radiant and famished and calling for wine. _And obviously so covered in that beast's stench that the dogs can't even tell she's human!_ Ailith thought. It was utterly disgusting to Ailith. Yet Halla was Ailith's lady all the same, and Halla had at least gone to him, rather than allowing him onto the property. Lady Birchleigh had kept her word… thus far, anyway. Ailith could hardly imagine how such a woman as Halla could be so obviously smitten with a monster; soon, no doubt, Halla would pay a horrible price for her foolishness. But Ailith pushed her own thoughts aside and said, "Very well, my lady. I'll go to the kitchens and see it done."

Ailith returned with Blythe and even Ailen in tow, bringing roasted chicken and vegetables, a hearty lentil soup, bread, apples, and cheddar cheese. Ailith carried a flagon of wine. As soon as the two places were set Halla tore into her food in a most unladylike manner, making up for the days she spent sick to her stomach over Maukurz. She chased it down with two full cups of wine and then sat back, content. As Ailith took small, dainty bites Halla said, "I see that they are building up the little village. Have you considered my offer to build your tavern in wood?"

Ailith looked at Halla sharply. "I hadn't thought you were serious about that. I've already given you my word, my lady. You needn't _buy_ my silence."

"Ailith…" Halla said, stung. "You don't understand me. I wanted to help you… _before_. I still do. Maybe more so now. Finnan gives me a generous allowance, yet what do I truly need, that I do not have?"

"I don't want your charity," Ailith said tartly. "I can make my own way. I don't need anyone, nor do I need anyone's pity. Least of all _yours_."

"Of course," Halla said, taking a deep breath. She should expect Ailith to be prickly with her at the very least, even though Halla found it quite unfair. "All the same, Ailith, it isn't charity or pity. I _like_ to help. I would be _glad_ to see you happy. And since there's so much building going on… I saw a great hall being laid out when I rode by, and even some framing for modest cottages. Whether I want it or not, High Meadow is going to grow. And Finnan is liable to cut down every last tree… Anyway, it would be profitable for you, as long as it lasts; and in the worst case, if the money dries up when the logging is finished, you would have a well-built place of your own, to live in or rent out or whatever you like. And there's only a small alehouse in Birchleigh. If you brewed a better beer, or offered more selections, surely folks would make the short trip."

Ailith sighed. "There is a great deal of building going on. Carpenters have come from miles around to take it on. One of them, Harlan—who buys at least two pints and a pie every day on his break—tells me the large hall will be a warehouse, and the two master loggers will build homes in wood as well. There are a good fifty laborers sawing trees, and their families have come; they will be my customers for now. This fellow Harlan says there will be work for a year at least, since the coming winter will slow things down quite a bit."

"So you're doing good business," Halla said, refusing the anger she felt over the destruction of the forest. There was nothing at all she could do about it. _And practically speaking, Finnan could never have them working so high up the mountain as to disturb Maukurz and the other Uruks._

"I'm doing well enough," Ailith replied. "Many people have enquired about suppers, especially the single men. I _could_ use a kitchen on site, and a place to seat my customers…"

Halla nodded, excited to see Ailith biting. The woman's severe face actually brightened a bit thinking of her tavern, and Halla realized that Ailith could be quite a beauty if she wanted to be.

"But I would insist on paying you back, in full," Ailith said primly.

"Sure," Halla said, grinning, not caring a bit about the money. "I've near twenty pounds in silver in a chest upstairs. That ought to start you off quite well."

Ailith's slow, hesitant smile dissolved as quickly as it came. "_You_ don't owe me anything, Lady Birchleigh."

Halla shook her head sadly. "Ailith… I don't know how to say this…"

"Then perhaps you'd best not say it at all, my lady"

Halla closed her eyes. How could she begin to tell Ailith what she'd learned about the lives of the Uruks in Isengard? She herself was only just coming to understand bits and pieces, and she certainly wouldn't betray Maukurz, revealing the horrors of his very first day alive. Yet if only Ailith knew! Might she hate him a little less? Or might a little of her fear be relieved? Sadly, Halla doubted it; and she had no point of reference, no way to imagine how a woman might feel after being so publicly violated. The only thing Halla could imagine was the scorn her community would show, because Halla herself would surely receive it—and perhaps in much higher measure than Ailith.

_It's unreasonable to ask her to forgive, and I would never expect it. Yet Maukurz and the others… they knew nothing better than what they did. Is it so impossible, the idea of some sort of reconciliation? _

"I wish so many things were different, Ailith," Halla said earnestly. "I do so wish we could be friends!"

Ailith sucked her teeth and said, "You wouldn't want that. Because I could never allow any friend of mine—had I any left—to put herself in constant danger. One day he will kill you, Halla."

"No," Halla said firmly. "You don't understand at all, and I don't expect you to. But Maukurz would never hurt me."

AIlith curled her lip at the sound of his name. Somehow she'd never thought of them as having names or identities; she didn't wish to start to think of them that way. It would lead her down a dark path, and she might think about the small Uruk that she'd forbidden herself from seeing as a child. "He _bit_ you, Halla," Ailith said in a hard, tight voice. "If that isn't hurting you—and endangering you!—I don't know what is."

Halla turned her head, her tucked chin to the shoulder Maukurz marked, her eyes closed. She felt that she must say something in defense of Maukurz, in defense of their relationship. Oh, if only she could tell Ailith how wonderful it was! But how hideously inappropriate that would be; and Halla didn't have it in her to be cruel, certainly not to a woman who didn't deserve it. "It wasn't a hurtful thing," Halla said quietly. "Please, Ailith… I know this must be difficult for you, and it's very difficult for me. Can't we just let it be? Please? Tell me… tell me if you had sisters or brothers. I know nothing about you! Let's drink this wine and talk all night, and be friends."

For a moment, Ailith was tempted. Halla was so ardent, and quite vulnerable underneath all of her liveliness. Halla was an orphan, Blythe had told Ailith; maybe that was why she was so eager, so naïve… But Ailith couldn't look at Halla: tiny and delicate, curvy and full lipped, bright eyed and physicaly graceful, without imagining that brute pounding away at her, scarring up her body... If Halla had been morbid, miserable, Ailith could have accepted it better. But to see her lady delighting in such horror hurt Ailith too deeply.

"I am sorry my lady." Ailith shook her head. "If you wish to help me as you said, I would welcome it. But as for—" Ailith closed here eyes before she wept. She had fought too hard to push those memories away, just to have them torn up by a stupid noblewoman too pretty and lustful... too _sick_, obviously, for her own good! Ailith rose from the table. "Forgive me. I will see to your bath now." _You most certainly need it, my _lady!

Halla slumped in her chair, watching Ailith leave sadly.

But Halla wouldn't go back on her word. The very next day, she walked with Ailith out to the new village of High Meadow, taking in the sight of laughing families thatching rooftops on newly built huts, breathing in the fresh smell of sawdust and new lumber. She tried to feel excited, but Halla had such a feeling of dread that was well beyond anger. Beyond the village the denuded mountain lay like a stripped, violated woman. Halla shook her head, banishing her feelings as Ailith approached with a tall pale-haired man with broad shoulders, a thick beard, and sun-bronzed skin.

"This is Harlan, my lady, the carpenter I told you about. He says he has enough time to build my tavern."

Harlan bowed. "Lady Birchleigh, it is an honor. I told Miss Ailith here that I've several commissions, but I'd juggle things around for her. A tavern would be a fine thing for High Meadow, and I've never had such remarkable ale as Miss Ailith brews."

Halla blinked for a moment, and then a slow smile flushed her face. _Harlan wants her! _Halla could see it quite plainly, even if Ailith could not. "In that case," Halla said with a warm smile, "we must start immediately. Can you design buildings as well?"

"I can, my lady. I've some learning. Not much, of course, but my father made sure I could read and figure and draw, and I know all the principles of building safe and well."

"Then you must plan something for us right away," Halla said enthusiasticly. Harlan bowed deeply to Halla. Then he turned to Ailith and bobbed a bow to her as well. It was all the carpenter could do to rip his eyes off Ailith and return to his work. Watching him walk away, Halla said, "Well he's a fine Man, don't you think?"

Ailith shrugged harshly. "I hadn't noticed."

_Nonsense,_ Halla thought. _You'd have to be blind and senseless, and you are neither._ "He didn't mention a wife," Halla said coyly.

"He told me he had a wife, but she died in the War. She was pregnant at the time. I needn't tell you how she died, I suppose. It's all too common."

Halla pointedly ignored that last remark. "Well, perhaps he's thinking of taking a new wife…"

"That I wouldn't know," Ailith murmured. "But surely if he did want a new wife, there are enough suitable, fresh young women here and about. He'll have no trouble finding one of them."

Halla didn't push. But over the next two weeks, as the month of August passed warm and sweet, Halla saw Harlan relish the chance to work so close to Ailith. Halla also saw the way some of the women in the town would turn away and whisper behind their hands when Ailith walked by, for which Halla's palms itched to slap them. Yet this meant that it was common knowledge what had happened to Ailith… which meant that Harlan surely knew, and he cared enough about Ailith to overlook her past. It was an exciting thing to see Ailith flustered by Harlan's solicitous questions and courteous behavior. Ailith had iron walls around her heart; she judged herself as harshly as the village women did, if not more. But all the same, Ailith couldn't miss how Harlan found any little excuse to speak with her. Halla hoped and prayed that Harlan would ask Ailith to marry him. It would be a great blessing for Ailith, and she could begin living her life again instead of merely enduring it.

After Halla checked on the progress of Ailith's tavern—or rather, the progress of Harlan's discrete yet dogged courtship—she ran to the forest to spend long delicious hours with Maukurz. The Uruk used all of his ill-got wisdom and skills to make Halla's body thrill with a pleasure that seemed endless. When they were both finally spent, Halla held Maukurz in her arms and coaxed him to purge the poison of Isengard. Sometimes she bathed him in a stream or shallow mountain pool, quietly attending his hard, scarred body as he spoke in his low, rich voice. He trusted her with his secrets now. Halla knew she would never tire of listening to him, and the love she felt for him would never fade. Those weeks were sweet for Halla, and she was so happy that she didn't even realize what she was missing.

Until the morning she woke too nauseus to go to the building sight. After a harsh round of vomiting in her night pot, Halla sat shaking on her bed, clutching her belly and wondering if she'd ate a bit of tainted meat, or if there was any sickness amongst the laboring people of High Meadow.

And then it hit her: Halla realized that she'd missed her monthly period.

For all their caution, Maukurz had gotten Halla pregnant.


	19. Chapter 19

Maukurz sensed her pain immediately, and he jumped fallen logs as he ran through the forest to Halla, sweeping her up in his arms. He breathed her in, checking mostly for _pushdug_'s musk about her, which was Maukurz's worst fear, the thing that kept him up at night, wishing he was able to snatch Halla away and _make_ her stay with him… only to know that doing so would likely ruin the beautiful welcoming acceptance she gave him. She was shaking in his arms, and so he kissed her as he inhaled her scent. He hated the smell of her fear, it was all too familiar to him—and all too dangerously seductive to one such as he—fear and sweetness together effusing from the soft skin of a _sharlob._ But burying his face in her neck, he realized that the familiar thing he was sensing wasn't fear at all. His heart flipped and thumped hard. "You're breeding," he murmured.

A sob caught in her throat as she nodded her head.

Maukurz took her little face in his hands. "I didn't do it on purpose," he whispered. "I swear, Halla, I didn't do it on purpose. You know we tried to be careful…"

"I know," she said, her voice small and fearful. She wrapped her arms around Maukurz and clung to him, feeling like she'd faint.

"You gotta come with me now, Halla," Maukurz crooned softly. "I'm gonna take good care of you now. Don't be afraid."

"I can't just _leave_!" Halla cried. "I don't even have any things… And what about when winter comes? And what about… what about when the baby comes, all alone in the wild… Maukurz! I could die!"

Maukurz swallowed hard. All he knew about whelping was getting them _in_. And he knew that after a few months at most, his old Master took the whelp out. He and Halla would be on their own, and she'd been a virgin, and he didn't have the foggiest notion of what to do, or even how long it took to make a whelp in the wild, without any magic. "We'll think of something," he whispered. "I won't let nothin' bad happen to you. And I'll keep you warm. I've already started getting' furs and hides together for the winter, so's I don't freeze. You know how to make clothes, don't you?"

"Not at all!" Halla whispered, hoarse with fear. "I can sew a little… but mostly embroidery… decoration, that is. Not… not making shirts and pants and gowns!"

_Shit, this is bad!_ Maukurz wouldn't show her his worries. He cupped her head to his chest and hardened his face the way he learned to do in Isengard, grateful she couldn't detect his emotions from his body's scent and heat. "Come on, _ashgaz_… Come lie with me for a while. Let me put a smile on your face, and then we'll figure out what to do."

She took his hand with such trust—trust that he'd broken without meaning to, getting her whelped when she had told him not to—and followed him into the forest. Maukurz knew where the best places were, and he took her to a little clearning with soft ground covered in orange pine needles. Guilt burned him, but Maukurz relished the scent of her breeding body. _This one's my own,_ he thought. _Out of how ever many I made, _this _one's my own. Not Master's, not born to die, but my own little whelp held safe in her soft, beautiful body._ Maukurz undressed Halla carefully, his customary urgent desire softened by a deep welling of tenderness. She was weeping softly, and he felt all the worse for his joy as he caught her salty tears on his tongue and kissed them away, then brought her carefully to the ground. Balancing on his strong arms, Maukurz looked down on Halla, torn a thousand different ways inside. He had her, for certain it was only a matter of time now, but yet the danger of losing her was all the greater. And at the same time, he was powerfully aroused by the knowledge of her condition. He wanted to mark her again, he wanted to fuck her until his legs gave out. He realized gladly that he could come in her all he wanted now… because, he thought, sighing, _the damage is already done_. _Fuck, I'd better figure out how to do right by her, and _fast.

But at least, for a little while, he could enjoy her, he could give her a little joy to soften some of her terror. Maukurz took Halla in his arms, pushing himself inside her as gently as he could manage, and did his damndest to banish her sorrow.

* * *

Edwyn didn't need to ask where Halla had been, but he had to warn her. As she crept past the stable he slipped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the darkness. "Trouble, beauty. Finnan's _mother_ has come for a visit. That woman's eyes are used as torture devices in gaols all over Middle Earth, and she's a nose like a hound. I'm ducking out, but you're stuck. You'd better play the part of a goodwife. Think you're up to it?"

Halla's stomach clenched, and before she could control herself, she'd vomited onto the stable floor. Tears rushed down her face, and all of the calm Maukurz had helped her find rushed away.

Edwyn made a little face, stepping away from the mess. He snapped his fingers at Ailen and said, "Get a bucket of water on that, would you boy? Good grief, Halla, what's wrong with you?"

"I don't… feel well."

"Well pull yourself together girl, for Finnan's sake if not your own. She won't be here long, but she makes him utterly miserable. I'll deal with the damage tomorrow, but you use that pretty face to mitigate it now. Charm her, if you can. All right?"

Horrified, Halla nodded. "Ailen, would you please run to the new village and tell your sister I need her?"

The stableboy bobbed his head pertly, and ran off to fetch Ailith. Halla looked to Edwyn and asked, "Can you tell? That I've been with him?"

Edwyn looked Halla over carefully, plucking a few stray pine needles from her long braid, adjusting the laces of her soft blue gown. "You're fine. Wait for your maid; say you were with her this morning."

"I know," Halla replied, nodding. "Thank you…"

"Don't worry!" Edwyn said brightly, unclasping the cross ties from his horse's bridle and leading the fine chestnut away. He called over his shoulder, "Tomorrow this time, everything will be back to normal!"

Halla waved her fingers in a limpid farewell, thinking _there's no chance of that. Nothing will ever be normal again._ She lay her hands over her flat belly and closed her eyes. _What will the baby look like? What will it be like, to have a child? What will it be like to leave the world behind and live like an animal in the forest, a life in hiding, with a baby who can never claim any place in society?_ For the second time, she saw an image of a little Uruk-child, a boy as sharp as a little hawk with Maukurz's golden eyes. _Is that my baby?_

"My lady?"

Halla opened her eyes, seeing Ailith through a blur of tears.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Ailith asked nervously.

"His mother is here," Halla grumbled. "We'd better go."

Halla managed a bold stride. As she approached the house, she saw Blythe hurrying in through the servant's entrance, a tray of sweets in her hand. She tried to remember Finnan's mother from the wedding, calling up only a blurry picture of a thick, big-breasted woman with greying yellow hair and a stern, sour little mouth.

She entered the hall with Ailith. Finnan's mother sat at the head of the table in her husband's seat, draped in thick, heavy gold, her coarse hair veiled in a silky mauve fabric. Finnan himself sat at her side, looking pallid and strained. Halla cringed as his dogs, as ever lying by the fire, raised their heads and bared their teeth, growling at Halla.

"Hush!" Finnan snapped, rising. He crossed the hall quickly and hissed, "Where _were_ you this morning?"

"With Ailith," Halla lied tightly. "Working on the tavern."

"Well hurry up, greet Mother. Ailith, you may go upstairs and wait for your lady to need you."

"Yes, my lord," Ailith said, her voice hard. Halla met her eyes briefly, seeking forgiveness. Ailith gave none, but she held her tongue. Yet behind her eyes, there was fury at being so used, and being reminded of Maukurz. Halla felt like the walls were closing in around her. _Would it be so bad to be free of it all?_

Halla put on her best face and swept to the table. "Hello, Mother," she said softly, and the woman turned up her plump, paper-skinned cheek for a kiss.

Then she turned wide eyes on Halla and demanded, "So why aren't you breeding yet? Has my son done his duty by you?"

Halla almost swooned. She turned appalled eyes to Finnan, who refused to meet her gaze, his lips pressed together in a thin, angry line. Halla nodded her head tightly, and lowered herself into the seat beside Finnan. She perched lightly on the chair, as if trying to deny her presence at the table.

"You are a liar," Mother pronounced crisply. "Honestly, Finnan! You are Lord Birchleigh now! Had your brother not died, perhaps you could shun your duty for your corrupted lifestyle, but all of our hopes rest on _you_. Your father would be horrified! You do _know_ about his proclivities by now, don't you Halla?"

_I am going to die, right here,_ Halla thought. She floundered like a landed fish, not knowing what to say.

"Let her be, Mother," Finnan said through a clenched jaw. "We're newly married, that's all it is. These things take time."

"Time, yes, but they won't happen at all if _you_ leave her be! She's a pretty enough thing, hot too I'll bet. We couldn't have found a better bride to fix your sickness, but I can't do it all for you, boy. And what do you think they'll say about this at court? D'you mean to shame me for the rest of my life?"

Halla and Finnan were spared their continued mortification by a pouding knock at the door.

"Enter!" Mother called shrilly.

Two mercenaries came in in a rush, their boots muddy and their tunics sweatstained from a hard ride. "Trouble in Birchleigh, my lord!"

"What trouble?" Finnan asked quickly, desperate for an out.

"Miller finally put the fee back to normal, after yer extension. Only thirty or so showed up to do their grinding, even though they've all cleared their little strips of land. And those thirty, Men and lads, they demanded to pay half-price, and they've roughed up the miller and his apprentice—"

"I _told_ you," Mother said. "I told you! Reducing the fees! What stupidity! Are you surprised they think you're a fool and a weakling, my son? You'd better go and put an end to it! And I'll bet you find grinding stones in every hut! Our fortunes will be run into nothing, if this is the way you manage them! Why are you still sitting here? Go! Make an example!"

Finnan threw his chair back. "Indeed I _will_," he growled harshly. "Good day, Mother, wife! I will see you later."

Halla watched him stomp out the door, horrified at what violence he might do to his own hungry peasants. _Is it any wonder, with a witch like this as a mother?_ _Well I won't let her bully me around as she does her son!_

"Well! I was going to spend the night at my house in Birchleigh, but if there's going to be trouble like this, I might as well sleep here! Advise your servants to set up a proper place for me to sleep in the hall, and I'll have your cook to attend me…"

"Very good, Mother," Halla said smartly. "I will see to it. But now, you _must_ forgive me: I generally rest during this time of the day. I trust Blythe will see to your every comfort."

Halla hid the rest of the day in her bedroom, wishing she'd had the guts to stay with Maukurz. She went through her things, setting aside her soft kid gloves and a silver-fox fur stole, looking over her heavy jewels. _I've enough in jewels to buy a small piece of land and build a little house. But who would sell to us? Who wouldn't want to meet the master of the house? And what neighbors wouldn't run us out with torches and pitchforks once they found out that master was an Uruk? And if I go to live with Maukurz where he is now, I would have to live with the other Uruks! I can trust Maukurz, but them?_

Ailith avoided Halla's conversation for the rest of the day, furious that Halla'd used her to cover up her obvious tryst with the Uruk. Ailith wondered sickly where Halla's 'lover' might be. And was he alone? Ailith doubted it. _This situation is becoming intolerable. And Harlan… Harlan must be a madman. Is he truly looking at me with those eyes? Maybe he thinks he can do what he wants with me! I must be a whore, mustn't I, for not having the decency to die after what those beasts did to me? I have to get out of here soon, tavern or not! _

Halla took a long bath at twilight. Finnan had not returned, so Halla sent word by Ailith that she was feeling unwell, and wouldn't be coming to supper. "Let the horrid woman eat alone," Halla murmured. It was hardly a lie: Halla was beginning to feel nauseas again. _I'm pregnant…_ she thought, despair and excitement blended together until nothing made any sense at all.

"Ailith, I'm sorry about before…" Halla tried again. "What was I to do?"

Ailith opened her mouth to reply, but bit it back. "I'm your servant, Lady Birchleigh," Ailith said tartly. "You needn't apologize to _me._"

Halla closed her eyes, rubbing her suddenly pounding temples. "You may go then!" Halla said, exasperated. How much was she supposed to try with the woman? It was all just too much for Halla to handle. Though there was still a bit of light outside, and the singing of peasants drifted down from High Meadow, Halla climbed into bed and pulled the covers high, determined to sleep.

Not too much later, Halla woke up abruptly. Her first thought was that Maukurz had come. Then she heard boots on the floor.

_Oh Bema help me, now I must lay beside him?_ It made sense, of course. Finnan would hardly spend the night in his hidden love nest, or at some far off tavern as he customarily did, not with his mother in residence. _Probably just as uncomfortable for him_, Halla thought fairly. Still, she settled into a mock-sleep, not wanting to talk her lawful husband as she lay there pregnant with Maukurz's child.

Halla heard Finnan's boots hit the floor. After a long moment of shuffling fabric, he sat heavily on the bed.

"Halla," he said, slurring his words from drink. "I know you're awake."

She kept her eyes shut, and hoped her breathing didn't give her away.

The ropes of the bed creaked as he rolled over, and suddenly he was on top of her, naked as the day he was born. Halla opened her eyes wide in shock.

"Th'old hag's right ye know… Gotta have an heir."

With that, Finnan jerked the blankets back and grabbed the hem of Halla's embroidered nightgown, hiking it up to her belly, exposing her rudely to the cold night air. Halla shook off her shock, gasping, "Stop it! You're drunk!" Halla reached for her nightgown, trying desperately to cover herself.

"Aye, good and," Finnan grumbled, slapping her arm away and shoving his hand between her legs.

Halla twisted and pushed him, but she wasn't nearly strong enough. His cold hand trying to pry her thighs apart felt revolting and degrading, nothing like the absolute joy of when Maukurz did those same things. "Finnan _please!_ I just want to sleep, please! Please, you're scaring me!"

"Gotta do it some time!" he growled. "Be a good girl now. This won't take long. Lie still, dammit!" He commanded her as her husband, but found himself strangely aroused by her small body writhing and fighting and pushing him away. He grabbed himself roughly, grinning in satisfaction. He'd be able to shut his mother up once and for all. He was so drunk he could hardly see straight, but he knew what to feel for. He excited himself more, thinking of how tight she'd be. "Quit squirming!" he hissed.

Halla was sobbing. "I don't love you!" she shrieked desperately. "Stop! I don't want you!"

Finnan slapped her, not sure where he caught her but glad that she froze and shut her mouth. He got her legs apart with his knees and pushed himself inside her, stunned that there was no virginal resistance. "You fucking whore!" he shouted, too angry and wasted to care who heard now. But the liquor that had allowed him to overcome his distaste for the girl and the act, and had fired his violence, now robbed him of ability, especially as he wondered who had gotten to her first. Who knew of his shame? In a rage he pushed himself off of the girl, wrenched the blankets around himself, and passed out to the sound of her weeping.

Finnan left at first light, humiated by his wife's refusal, by his sagged erection, horrified that someone had taken her already. Who could it be? Who knew that he was no husband to her? Who could it be, and would he talk?

As soon as Halla opened her eyes in the morning, she started crying. She was repulsed by herself; she felt covered in filth. She was terrified that last night would just be the beginning. And how could she go to Maukurz? Halla had betrayed her marriage vows quickly after taking them, but only now did she feel unfaithful. How could she look at her lover? Surely he-with his strong senses-would know! On top of it all, her stomach soon rebelled. She scrambled to get out of bed before she threw up all over herself. Halla clung to her hair, holding it out of her face as she vomited in the little clay basin. It was then that Ailith opened the door.

Halla pushed the pot away, clutching her body as she sat on her shins on the floor. Ailith went wide eyed for a moment, wondering why Halla appeared so wretched. And was that darkness at her hairline a bruise? _Well, she played with fire long enough. Who knows where she went last night, or what had at her? _

"I'm sick—" Halla sobbed.

_Dear Bema, is she pregnant? Was she stupid enough to let the monster get her pregnant? What will she do now?_ Ailith felt a moment's pity, a slow, reluctant compassion. She set down the pitcher of water, bowl, and washcloth she'd brought for Halla to wash her face, dabbed a bit of water on the cloth, and went to her lady.

"There now," Ailith said quietly, wiping Halla's mouth. "Just breathe. You can breathe your way through anything, you know."

Halla moaned sickly, and threw up again.

"Lord Birchleigh's mother is downstairs, thinking she'll spend the day with you," Ailith warned. "I'm afraid if you say you're ill she'll bring her embroidery in here and pummel you with talk. You'd better just come with me, my lady."

"She's leaving soon…" Halla murmured. All the same, Finnan might return. "You're right, Ailith. Let's go to High Meadow," Halla said, her voice shaking. "I just want to get out of here…"

Ailith could have no idea how truly Halla meant that. Even if Maukurz hated her now, she would still run away. She couldn't stay with Finnan.

Ailith was surprised when Halla wanted to dress in a plain, thick grey dress, one of the homespun gowns she'd brought from her aunt's home. She wore a red hooded cloak over it, and pulled the hood up over her braid. _Something_ bad had happened to Halla, Ailith knew. But the older woman's guesses were all wrong.

The walked to the new village in silence. The villagers had been up at dawn, as was their way. The Men went out to the forest to do their work and the women cleaned their new huts or put on stew pots for their Men to return to at break time. Children ran about, laughing and playing. But silence fell when Lady Birchleigh appeared. Children ran back to their mothers' legs, and women shut their doors in Halla's face.

As soon as he could get away from the house he was designing, Harlan joined the women at the construction sight. The framing was up and things were progressing nicely, especially as Halla's contribution allowed Ailith to hire four laborers from the village of Birchleigh, usually jolly fellows who today worked in silence, eyeing the lady fearfully.

"What is going on?" Ailith asked Harlan.

Harlan shook his head, lowering his voice. "It's because of yesterday. Some of the villagers went to the mill in Birchleigh to complain of the high fee, which they felt would take too much grain from them for them to be able to make it through the winter. They were angry, voices were raised, threats exchanged. And then his lordship came in, and his soldiers cut down four Men. Another, one who had a large grinding stone in his house, was hanged."

"But how can that be?" Halla demanded, perking up at last. "How is that lawful? Men must be charged with crimes! A court must be convened!"

Harlan shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to criticize his lord.

Disgusted, Halla turned away. She felt helpless to do anything, whether it be running away with Maukurz, or helping the people of Birchleigh, or anything else. She felt used and wretched, and it didn't seem that anything would ever be right again. Sick to her stomach, Halla walked away, looking for privacy before she vomited. She headed towards the last of the tree line, what was left of it, what certainly would be reduced and then destroyed in the coming weeks. Today all the Men were working at the southern tip of the forest, bringing down the last stand of ancient oaks.

It was then that Halla heard a whistle that sounded like birdsong, but most assuredly wasn't. She ignored it for a moment, peering through the backs of the huts to where Ailith and Harlan walked along, checking the framing of the tavern. Then the whistle came again. A moment later an arrow pelted into the ground only a few paces away, shivering in the soft earth where it lodged. It was one of Finnan's arrows, tipped with orange and brown feathers.

Maukurz had come.

Halla wavered in sorrow and horror. Even still, she was drawn to him. She pulled the arrow out of the ground, looking over her shoulder to see Ailith bringing Harlan a cup of warmed, spiced ale.

Maukurz was standing just beyond the tree line, his dark grey skin keeping him shadowed while his golden eyes glowed brightly. He set down his bow, grinning at her. Clutching her arms over her chest protectively, Halla walked to Maukurz, her head bowed. As soon as she got close to him, she wanted to fall into his arms and let him kiss away her sadness, yet this was impossible if she was to keep her horrible secret.

"What happened?" Maukurz demanded sharply. "What happened now?"

"What are you _doing_ here?" Halla returned, her heart sinking. He knew, of course he knew. She protested, "If anyone sees you here!"

Halla's voice broke as Maukurz wrapped his arms around her. As soon as he breathed her in, his entire body went rigid. "That fucker touched you? I smell his fucking _stink!_" Maukurz growled, his embrace hard like iron around her.

Halla couldn't respond, but for her silent tears.

"I'm gonna kill him! _Where the fuck is he!?_"

"Maukurz, stop it, please…" Halla sobbed, hearing herself pleading with Finnan all over again. Horrified, she dug her nails into Maukurz's back, trying desperately to hold him back. If he pushed even a little, he'd run right over her. His entire body shook with a terrifying rage. "The Men will kill _you!"_

Maukurz was overwhelmed by her fear and sorrow, and he knew she was right. He was alone against a good fifty Men, and then the _pushdug_ had his armed guards. Maukurz had spied enough to know their numbers and weapons, their comings and goings. "Then you will come with me! Get your things together and meet me back here as soon as you can. And one night, I will crawl into horse boy's window and make him squeal, I _swear_ to you."

Halla nodded. "I'll get my things. I don't… I don't care what happens. Just take me away from here, Maukurz!"

"I'ma take you away all right," Maukurz hissed darkly, thinking of how long it had been since he'd skewered a horse boy. Too long. And this one had it coming, for laying claim to what belonged to Maukurz. It made no difference to Maukurz that Halla's husband couldn't possibly _know_ of him. The Uruk was far too territorial to care, and combined with his outrage for the shaken girl he loved, his fury towards Finnan assumed a life of its own, like some dark evil spirit birthing and rising out of the very earth.

He remembered his reason for coming. "I need more of that medicine you put on me, Halla. Baiurz got fucked up, and he's gonna get real sick if someone don't help him. That's why I came… and now I'm glad I did. Now, you got anything like that?"

"I… I can check in the barn…" Halla said. "There should be something around… And I can try to help him…" Her voice broke again, and she started shaking. She wanted to leave with Maukurz right then.

_Oh, I'm gonna tear that white-skin pig apart,_ Maukurz through furiously. He lifted Halla's face, noting a bruise by her temple. Trying to ignore the screen of rage bleeding over his eyes, he kissed her brow with furious passion. "Get some medicine, stuff like that. Get whatever you wanna bring. And then get back here—" Maukurz looked up. Two laughing Men, axes swung over their shoulders, were passing close by the woods as they head to the village. He looked at Halla again, the hurt and shame in her eyes stinging him. _She looks like the rest of them now. If he ruined my girl… No. I'm gonna bring her back. _"You're gonna be just fine, _ashgaz._ Don't even think of it no more. Just get your shit and hurry back to me. Now go!"

Halla hurried out of the woods. She saw Ailith's curious, wary face, but Halla had no time to talk. She ran to the stables and began rooting through the tack room for anything that might help the other Uruk. There was only a little salve left in at the bottom of a small earthen pot, but it was better than nothing. _Remember needles and thread_, she thought, running towards the house. She caught sight of Finnan and Edwyn from the corner of her eye, trotting down the lane with Finnan dogs in tow. He had ridden his mother as far as the subdued town, and sent her on with his escort. Then he'd joined up with his lover, and now his hard, forced laughter carried towards the manor.

Heart in her mouth, Halla shoved open the door and tore through the house. She hurridly ripped a sheet from the bed and began throwing things into it. Her bag of jewels, her fur stole and gloves, two spare dresses rolled into tight bundles. Frantic, Halla wondered whatelse she would need.

There were footsteps on the stairs.

Terrified now, Halla bundled all she had and pushed the sheet under the bed. She stood up just in time: Ailith entered the room, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"You lied to me," Ailith said coldly. "I saw you in the woods. You were talking to the monster. You broke your word."

"I don't have time for this!" Halla cried. "Go away, Ailith! Go to your tavern, go to Harlan and live your life!"

"Live my life!" Ailith screamed. "I _have _no life! Your monster _stole_ my life! I put myself at risk to keep your secret, did you ever think of that? And you repay me by running off to him every chance you can get, and letting him come back here! Are you so stupid? What will you do when he brings a whole gang of them down and runs over this place! You've invited a monster into our midst, you selfish girl!"

"His friend is hurt!" Halla shouted back. "He would never have come otherwise, but he needed my help!"

"You are disgusting! How can you do it? How can you help our enemies? How can you _fuck an Uruk!?_"

Halla opened her mouth to retort, but the door flew open, nearly knocking Ailith to the ground. Finnan stood in the doorway, jaw hanging in shock.

"What did I hear? _What_ did I hear? Ailith, what did you say about my wife? I will have your tongue slit for slander!"

"Ask her!" Ailith cried. "Ask her where she goes, when she disappears! Ask her what put that bite on her shoulder!"

Finnan, frozen in outrage, stared stupefied at Halla for a moment. "You… you willingly…"

"Finnan—" Halla began, putting her arms up to shield herself as her husband charged across the room. She backed away as he chased her, and tried to dive over the bed. Finnan grabbed her leg, dragging her back. He grabbed the collar of her dress and yanked her up, tearing the fabric aside with his hands until he saw the bold red outline of an Uruk mouth on his wife's shoulder.

"Filthy whore!" Finnan screamed, batting Halla across the face with the back of his hand. Halla screamed, until his hands wrapped around her throat, choking off her cries. "After all I've done for you! After all I've been through! All _we've_ been through! My own wife! My own wife!"

"My lord, don't!" Ailith shouted, jumping up and running to Finnan. _He's going to kill her, and it's my fault!_ Ailith thought desperately. "My lord! My lord, no! Someone help me!"

Halla saw darkness at the corners of her eyes. Finnan's hands were around her neck like a twisting, tightening rope, cutting off all air. _So this is how I die…_ She thought, strangely detatching from herself as her life ran out.

But then Edwyn appeared in the doorway, his face masked with horror. He ran across the room immediately. "Get off of her! Finnan, let go, you're killing her!"

"Whore!" Finnan shrieked wildly. "She's fucking _Uruks_ in my house! In my very house!"

There was no time for reason. Edwyn tried to pry Finnan's fingers off Halla's throat. When that failed, the handsome young man grimaced, then clenched a fist, and nailed his lover in the head. Finnan released Halla's throat, and slumped to the ground.

Ailith wailed in sorrow. Edwyn turned his eyes back to Halla. Without Finnan to hold her up she'd fallen across the bed, her eyes closed.


	20. Chapter 20

Edwyn heard Halla's shallow breathing in his ear. He stood up and fetched some water from the nightstand. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, tossing the water in Halla's face.

The girl gasped and shot up, wild-eyed and sucking her breath. She grasped her throat, where livid, angry bruises were already wrapping like a choker necklace around her peach-toned flesh.

"Easy does it," Edwyn murmured, taking Halla's shoulders in his hands. He looked over his shoulder to Ailith. "Hurry now, there should be some brandy in the cabinet over there. Fetch me some. We must move quickly, before Lord Birchleigh wakes."

Edwyn peered into Halla's eyes. The poor thing was terrified, and Edwyn ignored his own reeling emotions to comfort her. "You're going to be just fine, love," he crooned softly. Halla was crying again, horribly frightened. Ailith returned with the brandy in a small silver flask, and Edwyn held it out to Halla. "Take a little sip," he instructed. When she'd complied, he said, "All right. I'm taking you to your aunt and uncle in Stony Hill for a good long stay. D'you think you can stand up?"

Halla nodded—she would try. Holding Edwyn's hand, she got to her feet. At the sight of Finnan sprawled on his belly on the floor, she swooned. Edwyn caught her in his arms and swept her promptly off her feet.

"Oh, my lady…" Ailith whispered, shaking her head desperately. "I'm so, so sorry…"

Halla stared at Ailith, too terrorized to forgive. Then she gripped Edwyn's arm. "Wait…" she said hoarsely, "Under the bed… I need my things…"

"Ailith, look under the bed. Halla… you packed to leave?" Edwyn asked.

Halla closed her eyes and whispered, "I was running away. Finnan—he raped me last night. I… Oh… I just want to leave, please get me out of here, Edwyn…"

Edwyn hissed between his teeth. "He's not the same man, since his father died. Is that it, this bundle here?"

"Yes… But wait… in the chest… Ailith, take half the coin for what I promised you…"

Ailith shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I don't deserve it…"

"Take half the coin. The rest… dump half of that in my bag. And then… Take the remainder to Birchleigh. Pay the miller; make him put his mark on some paper. So that… the villagers… They won't have to pay the fee this year…"

"Dearest Halla," Edwyn said softly. "We must go now. Ailith, just grab the chest and follow us, please."

Edwyn carried Halla out of the bedroom and down the stairs. "D'you think you can hold on to me, on my horse?"

"I will try," Halla said. "But Edwyn… I don't want to go to Uncle Aelfred."

"Darling, I've not even begun to think about what I've heard. But you cannot stay here. Perhaps one day his temper will cool… and I'll see that he doesn't make any rash moves against you legally… Perhaps one day you can come back. But for now, you've a death sentence hanging over you."

"I don't want to come back," Halla said. "I want you to take me into the forest. He's waiting for me…"

"The… the…" Edwyn couldn't make himself say it.

"Maukurz, his name is Maukurz. Please Edwyn… I know you don't understand, but _please_…" Halla began to sob.

"Shh," Edwyn murmured, walking into the stables. "Boy! Fetch my horse from the field and tack him, quick!" Ailen took off at a run, and Edwyn sat Halla on a bale of hay. Ailith hovered in the background, her trembling fingers covering her lips. "Now Halla, you know I care very much for you. I'm not going to judge you… Though I think you might _need_ it. But I won't offer you up for the slaughter. If you don't trust your uncle, is there anywhere else you can go? I might have a few friends I could trust to hide you…"

"Edwyn I'm _pregnant!_" Halla cried.

Edwyn closed his eyes and whistled through his teeth, shaking his head. He took Halla by the shoulders again, seeing the mark on her smooth skin. "Oh, my poor little featherhead!" he exclaimed softly, trying to piece the torn parts of her gown together. "What have you done? Are you sure it's… not human?"

"It's Maukurz's baby," Halla whispered. "I just want to go to him, please Edwyn, don't take me away from him! He won't hurt me! He's finished with war, I told you, he knows his master was evil… And you can't _imagine_ what Saruman did to him…"

Ailith couldn't hear it. She walked away, leaning against the door of an empty stall, covering her face with her hands.

"Halla, you are a sweet little girl, and I know your heart. Likely this… Uruk… saw your kindness and preyed upon it… Now, there are women who know how to get rid of… of unwanted pregnancies. Let me take you to Edoras, and we'll get you straightened out. Then I will set you up in a townhouse, your own townhouse, until this blows over and Finnan can be brought to terms."

"I don't want to get rid of my baby!" Halla cried. "And no matter where you take me, I will run away! I will find him! I love him, Edwyn, it isn't just… just making love… at first it was, but there's so much more now… Please trust me, Edwyn! I know what I need, and it's Maukurz! No one has _ever_ love me like he does!"

"They cannot _love_, Halla!" Edwyn said, frowning. "They are pure evil! They are Orcs!"

"Half," Halla said. "He is half-Orc! His mother was from the Westfold! All of them! They are our _kin_, Edwyn! And they didn't ask to be born, or to be… Oh, if only I could tell you what was done to him! He was… he was assaulted most violently from the moment he was born! He was made the way he was, but he's changed! Can you not bring me to him? Meet him?"

Edwyn shook his head, horrified, most of all because there was no lie in Halla. The girl was quite incapable of any but the most simple lies, and even that she did poorly. But she was capable of high passion, and clearly all of her passion was for this enemy warrior. _All this time,_ Edwyn thought, _the rogue she's fallen for… An Uruk! A beast! And she, such a beauty! How is it possible? _

"You will run to him no matter what I do, won't you?" Edwyn asked, surrendering.

Halla nodded adamantly. Edwyn shook his head again, looking at the ugly bruises around her throat, the spreading bruise on her cheek: Finnan must have hit her as well.

"And what will he do, if he loves you as you say, to see you so injured?"

"He will be furious. But I'll manage him. And he knows he'd be at a great disadvantage, if he was to pick a fight. I think he will be satisfied to take me away. Oh, Edwyn, be my friend! If you take me away... I will die, I know it! And I won't get rid of my baby, so if I _don't _go live with Maukurz... what will become of me? You see? There is no choice! Now help me please, or stand aside and let me go!"

"You are going to get us both killed," Edwyn growled. "Now, is he alone? This... Maukurz?"

"He's waiting for me… though that was a while ago… Still, he wouldn't have left. He'll be somewhere nearby. He'll know when we come, he'll find us."

"I daresay he will," Edwyn grumbled. "Oh, I can't believe you are asking me to do this!" He looked over to see his horse nearly tacked. "Stay here, Halla. We ride in just a moment. Boy, get this bundle tied to my saddle. I'll be right back."

Edwyn darted off, and Ailith turned around, looking at Halla, at the hurt in the younger woman's eyes, the bruises marring her beauty. "I don't know what to say to you," Ailith admitted quietly. "I wanted to tell, but when I saw what happened… My lady, I'd never mean for you to be hurt…"

Halla nodded. "I'm just glad to be leaving. Edwyn is the only one here who cares about me at all, and he doesn't even live here. I'll be better off with Maukurz, no matter how hard it is for us."

"How will you live? And you are truly… _pregnant_?"

Halla touched her belly softly. "Not even a month yet, but yes."

"And you… you _want_ to bear… such a… a…" Ailith choked on her words.

"It's Maukurz's baby," Halla breathed. "I'm terrified. But it's _his_, and I love him. And it's my baby as well. And I don't know how we'll live. But at least I'll be loved, from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep."

Ailith wiped her tears away bitterly.

"You should marry Harlan," Halla said quietly.

"He wouldn't— And I… I couldn't…"

"Of course you can," Halla told her. "Just let go. And he does love you, Ailith. I can see it in the way his eyes follow you everywhere. In the way he tries so hard just to make you smile. Marry him, Ailith. Have babies. Let the War go."

Ailith couldn't look at Halla any longer. She turned away, her heart pounding.

"All right," Edwyn said, coming back into the stable, a broadsword on his hip, a dirk tucked in his belt, and a bow and quiver on his back. He shrugged to Halla's frightened eyes. "I may be crazy, but I'm not _insane._ And I'm not promising anything. Can you walk now?"

Halla pushed herself up. Ailith ran to her side. "Let me help you…"

Walking with Ailith's support, Halla followed Edwyn and his war horse into the stable yard. Edwyn launched himself into the saddle and walked the horse up to a wooden mounting block. "Let's go. Finnan could be awake already. Ailith, can we trust you?"

"You can," Ailith said staunchly. "Truly."

"Then you can say that I've taken her ladyship to stay with friends, and I'll be returning in a little while. Come on, Halla. We'd better ride."

Ailith helped Halla onto the mounting block. "Good-bye, my lady," Ailith whispered. "Again… I'm so sorry…"

"So am I," Halla said quietly. "If I caused you pain with my happiness…"

"Just go," Ailith said. "Hurry… before he sees you."

Halla climbed up behind Edwyn and wrapped her arms around his slim, athletic body. The young Man dug his heels into his charger, and cantered out of the stable yard.

Halla didn't want Edwyn to know anything about where Maukurz lived; Edwyn wanted to make sure no one saw which way they went. He cantered through the fields for a long ways to the south, before doubling back and riding around the mountain, entering the woods from the eastern side. Edwyn felt the tenseness of a coming battle, and he doubted himself desperately. He nearly turned back several times, feeling deeply guilty, sure he was doing wrong by the girl who clung to him with shaking arms. _I am bringing her to her death, her horrific death._

_Yet she was with the Uruk enough to get pregnant, and he'd never made Halla anything but giddy with delight! How is it possible?_

"I don't feel right with this," Edwyn said, drawing his charger down to a walk. "They are our enemies… Whether or not you say they were… bred from… bred from our own women. Which is horrific, Halla… I can't understand you!"

Halla lay her cheek against Edwyn's back. "He makes me happy," she murmured, her voice still scratchy from her assault. "He's the only one who's ever cared enough... to make me happy. Save you, of course, my Edwyn!"

Edwyn laughed, slightly madly. "I can't imagine it," he said. "Yet for some insane reason, I trust you. Or at least, I trust that he's done what you say he's done: made you feel loved and beautiful. I've seen how you are when you return from him, and I see how you are when you are denied him. There are strong feelings there, no doubt. Only… I cannot connect that, in my mind, with what I know of his kind."

"He thought we ate Uruks," Halla suggested lightly.

"What?" Edwyn asked, scandalized.

"That's right. When we first met, I accused him of eating the dead and violence, and all I knew and thought of Uruks. And he told me that he thought we ate Uruks after killing them. Maybe we all think many things of each other that aren't true."

"Halla… you are a sweetheart indeed. But I needn't _think_. I've _seen._ By Bema, I shouldn't be doing this! What am I thinking? I can't leave you with-"

Edwyn cut himself off. His war horse was starting to prance. _He approaches…_ Edwyn thought, his chest gripping. Wrong or right, it was too late to turn back now.

And then the Uruk appeared on the trail before him, bow drawn, arrow trained on Edwyn's throat.

"Maukurz!" Halla cried softly, looking around Edwyn's back. "Edwyn's helped me, he's my friend!"

Maukurz's golden eyes narrowed. His growl was low and menacing, and he eyed Edwyn with a wild jealousy and anger. Edwyn met the Uruk's gaze boldly. Halla's lover was all but naked, with only a long, shredded breechclout hanging between his legs. His body was dark grey and flawless, a thousand times more powerful than a Man's, yet marred with wicked scars. Worst were those across his chest, brutal slashes that looked like they'd come from an exceptionally cruel whip. His face—Edwyn had no choice but to admit—was savagely handsome, with sharp, well formed features arranged in clean, wolfish lines. _I can see what she lusts for,_ Edwyn decided. His own body was reacting most inappropriately. The Uruk tilted his head then, curiously, running his eyes over Edwyn's face—_as if he can read my thoughts!_ The dark, well formed lips twitched and curled up at the corners, the arrogant and self-aware smile of a fiercely sexual creature who knew when he was being sized up, and _enjoyed_ it. Edwyn, a veteran warrior, quite nearly blushed. _Good grief! What sort of Uruk is this? I can only imagine what he does to her… No wonder her head is spinning._

Maukurz kept his arrow trained on Edwyn. "You gonna get in my way, _r__ủ__k goth?_"

"Are you going to harm this woman?"

"Edwyn!" Halla hissed. "I'm getting down."

"She's _mine_, horse boy. Come to me, Halla."

"Wait—" Edwyn said. "She shouldn't get down on her own. She's been hurt."

The Uruk's reaction was terrifying in its intensity. His fury was palpable. He kept the arrow on Edwyn but stalked around the horse, a bloodthirsty growl tearing from the Uruk's throat that made Edwyn deeply regret bringing little Halla to this beast. But then the beast demanded, heartbreak mixing with fury, "Who did this to you, _ashgaz?_ That _husband_?"

Her tearful eyes told him the truth. With an eye on the horse boy's broad sword, Maukurz finally let the bow go slack. He put the arrow back in the quiver. Edwyn was under no illusion that the Uruk trusted him—or was trustworthy—simply because he'd put away his weapons. The Uruk was in grabbing range now. He no longer _needed_ a weapon to kill. Edwyn held his breath as Halla swung her leg over the horse's back and slipped down, into the Uruk's waiting arms.

Rejoined, the lovers clung to each other. Halla was weeping silently, her arms twined around the Uruk's thick neck as if she'd been drowning without him. The Uruk's golden eyes shuttered for just a moment, as he held Halla, breathing her in and sighing. But then he peered at Edwyn again. "You saved her from him?"

Edwyn grimaced. "It was an ugly scene. But… try to understand…"

"I don't care to _understand_," Maukurz hissed. "She is mine. She is precious. She is not to be harmed."

Edwyn blinked, dazed, lost for words.

"But I thank you, _r__ủ__k goth._ For protecting her… when I could not."

"Edwyn punched Finnan, I think," Halla murmured softly. "And he's brought my things. I'm going with you now. Wherever you go, Maukurz, I will follow."

"Wait a moment," Edwyn said tremulously, trying to pull himself together. "She… she may not care what you did during the War, but even if you love her, I do not forget so easily. I want to see her again soon, to know she's safe. Or I _will_ hunt you down, Maukurz."

Maukurz sneered. "She ain't your concern, pretty boy. And I ain't gonna let your lover twist you up into catching her for him. And if you wanna fight me, you ain't gotta _hunt, _we can do it right now!"

"Maukurz," Halla said quickly, soothingly, "Edwyn's my friend. He wouldn't do that." She looked over her shoulder and told Edwyn, "If you come here in… let's say two days, at high noon, I'll look out for you. If you're alone, I'll see you one last time. Then we must move on. Maukurz and I will be far from here soon, won't we, love?"

Maukurz nodded, eyes still locked on Edwyn. He kissed Halla's brow softly, fiercely. "You ready, _ashgaz_?"

"Oh yes," Halla sighed.

Maukurz lifted her easily, cradling her against his chest. Halla looked to Edwyn, pitying him. "Thank you, Edwyn. You didn't make a mistake, I promise you. And you will tell Finnan…"

"That you are staying with one of your friends. I don't know how I'll manage him. I feel like I don't even know him anymore. But I will do all that I can, and I won't tell him where you are. And I'll keep an eye on that Ailith for you."

"Who's Ailith?" Maukurz asked.

"That's _her_," Halla murmured softly.

Maukurz grunted. "She know 'bout this? Him bringin' you to me?"

Halla nodded.

"Fuck," Maukurz hissed. "Yeah, look out for that one, horse boy. And don't try any shit when you come to see Halla. I might be alone, and I love _this _white-skin, but I got tricks you never even saw in your nightmares."

Edwyn raised his brows, but had enough sense not to take the challenge to heart. "Don't make a fool of me, Maukurz," Edwyn said. "You say that Halla is precious, and she is. She's given you a great gift, and in nine months she's giving you another one: a family. Don't fuck it up. Well... goodbye, Halla dear. And good luck."

With that, Edwyn untied the bundle from his saddle and lowered it as far as he could to the ground before dropping it. Then he nodded his head tightly at the couple, whirled his horse about, and galloped away.


	21. Chapter 21

As they climbed the trail, Maukurz clutching Halla and her bundle of goods, Halla felt both relief and terror. Relief, of course, that she had left a horrible home life behind; relief that she had found someone finally who was dedicated to her alone, and she could be at ease, knowing that she was accepted and loved. And horror, because she had never not known where her next meal was coming from. The death of her parents had cast her down the social ladder somewhat; her mother's brother Aelfred lived far more humbly than Halla's parents. But still, they had means, a home, a herd. Maukurz had nothing.

She tried, also, to forget how awful it had felt when Finnan had briefly raped her. She didn't even want to _think_ the word 'rape', let alone apply it to herself. That violation had been a terror blighting Halla's life since she was four years old, a thing discussed in whispers. A woman or girl would disappear after a raid, or sink into misery, and that word—_rape—_would be hissed in the shadows. The woman would receive kindness for a while, until her presence became something akin to bad luck. It was a word associated with shame, and Halla didn't want to bear it. She tried to push away the memory of his cold hands, the horrific invasion of his body. Yet it was impossible. It also seemed especially cruel that Finnan had violated her in the one thing that made her so happy. Halla had just discovered sexuality, was just beginning to learn what her body was capable of feeling and doing and sharing with Maukurz. Their lovemaking had felt natural and good to Halla, it was something she eagerly anticipated, a great source of joy; then Finnan had named her _whore_ and taught her how easily she could be oppressed and shamed. She couldn't escape the memory of his naked body forcing its way into hers. She shuddered, unaware that she moaned softly, wretchedly.

Maukurz stopped walking immediately. He'd long since left the trail and was hiking up through the woods. Now he set Halla's bundle of clothes and jewels down, and sunk to the ground, crossing his legs and holding her in his lap in the shadow of a great, drooping pine tree. Halla shivered, wondering if he'd want to make love. Wondering if she would feel Finnan violating her, if the sweet gift she'd been given, that easy pleasure she'd found since the first time Maukurz had held her in his gaze and boldly run his hand up her thigh had been utterly destroyed. She didn't even have the heart to find out.

Maukurz whispered "Shh…" He held her gently, feeling the ugly turmoil of her emotions, hideously familiar: it was the wash of fear and shame and hurt that had smothered him for all his life, that he'd deliberately invoked not knowing there was anything better. It caused pain between his eyes, to see Halla and hurt for her and see the damage done… and then to know himself so deeply culpable for inflicting it anywhere he could. He hated the horse boys with every ounce of his being: first because he was trained to, and then because they _won._ But now Maukurz found himself humbled, imagining some Man holding his own Halla and wondering how he'd put her together again.

Halla's body language was closed off: she drew her knees to her chest and hugged her arms around her knees. She didn't even seem to know that she was softly keening. Seeing Halla this way ripped Maukurz's heart out. _He stole the thing I loved the most: her beautiful innocent warmth._ Maukurz was at loss for how to retrieve it, but restoring Halla was absolutely necessary. He wondered if he should lay her down and coax her body to respond, in hopes that it would unfreeze her heart.

He brushed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face. Her eyes—the beautiful blue eyes that had gazed on him with such desire and joy—were frozen and liquid with tears, hardly seeing him at all. Her temple was bruised, her cheek and mouth were bruised. Her husband had tried to choke her to death, leaving a purple rope around her throat. Maukurz could have peeled the Man's skin from his body while he was still alive, and it wouldn't have satisfied him. "I've got you now, Halla," Maukurz murmured. "Nothing bad will happen now. You're safe with me now."

"Maukurz…" she cried softly, turning her face to his chest. "Oh, Maukurz!" Her sobs tore loose as she cuddled against him, gripping his hands as if to save her life.

He was so enraged it was hard to speak of it. If he'd still been in Isengard, Maukurz wouldn't have been to control his anger. Someone would have been hit, hard. Only half a year of eating shit as a refugee allowed him to keep his thoughts together, and speak with a calm voice. "He hurt you… bad?"

Halla knew Maukurz didn't mean the choking or hitting. She shook her head, shaking and crying. "No, no… It was just—so _awful!_ I was so… so embarrassed! So afraid, and ashamed…" She looked up at him, her pain filled eyes like justly deserved daggers in his guts. "And I was outraged… for you, so much, that hurt so much, because I gave myself to you…! And the _baby…_"

Maukurz groaned softly, lay his cheek against her hair. "Shh, don't you worry 'bout me. And it's real good your body ain't hurt. And Baby ain't hurt," he murmured. Because Maukurz couldn't help it anymore, he pressed his lips to her neck just behind her ear, breathing her in, kissing her hair and warm skin. He tightened his arms around her.

Halla sighed, a little cry escaping her. She sank into his arms. But when his hand smoothed over her hips, she cringed away. "I don't… I wanna… _wash_…" she whispered.

" 'Course," Maukurz said quietly. She couldn't hear the anxiety in his voice. He held her for another moment, his hands still and his arms warm. "But I love you. He don't got you. _I_ do. He's dead to us." _And so help me, if I can make it happen, he'll be dead to all._

Halla inhaled deeply, holding his words close. Finnan was dead to her. She would never have to see him again. He would never touch her, or hit her, or embarrass her with his ice cold glare. He'd never tell her to be seen and not heard, or measure her by the propriety of her gown, or treat her as a land deed or a set of gold plates.

And Maukurz was willing to forget. Halla had thought in the back of her heart that he might not want her anymore. But Maukurz he did; he was just the same with her, as if it had never happened. Halla hoped maybe _she_ could return to herself with him.

"I love you too," Halla said, sinking against Maukurz a little more.

He rose to his feet easily. He dipped again to lift the bundled sheet, dipping Halla back playfully—but safely, holding her firm—smiling with hopeful encouragement. Halla smiled faintly and closed her eyes, and slept as he carried her into the mountains.

* * *

"Halla, wake up now…"

She opened her eyes to a grey, mossy wall with a narrow stream of water running over the rocks. The air was crisp, and Halla was surprised to see snow in patches on the ground.

"You wanna wash now, before we get there?"

Halla nodded, stretching a little in his arms. Maukurz set her down and walked to the little stream, cupping a handful of water to drink.

"We're going to live with those other Uruks?" Halla asked him timidly.

"I got you," Maukurz said coolly. "No body will bother you."

Halla breathed deeply, extending her hand gingerly to let the cold water splash on it. "I trust you," she said quietly. "I have to trust you."

"You're my _ashgaz,_" he told her. Maukurz smiled softly. "And you got my little whelp. What you think he's gonna be like?"

"The baby? I don't know," Halla said thoughtfully. She inhaled again, and felt the cool mountain air on her face. Impulsively, she pulled down her hood and unbound her tight braid, raking her fingers through her long pale hair. "Strong," she decided, managing a small smile.

"For sure," Maukurz murmured happily. He reached out and grasped a strand of her hair. "I like it better like that. Free."

"Me too," Halla said. "Maukurz… I forgot completely! That other—Baiurz, right? He is hurt!"

"He's a little banged up," Maukurz said. "He was huntin', stepped on some Man's bear trap."

"But that's awful! I'll hurry and wash up… though it's so cold…" Halla dropped her cloak hesitantly, looking over her shoulder. "D'you mind… so much? I want privacy. Just… because…" she pursed her lips together, unable to say it.

_She don't want me to see her washing him off,_ Maukurz thought. He took a steadying breath and dropped her hair, then impulsively tucked the strand behind her ear. "Pretty girl," he said quietly. "I'll walk around a little, but I won't be far."

Halla sighed, grateful. She undressed awkwardly, pulling the laces slowly on her grey wool dress, reluctant to let it drop to her feet. She could feel the brisk spray of mist from the little waterfall, chilling her skin, and the air was even colder then. Halla closed her eyes, and stepped into the water.

She cringed from the frigid water, but scrubbed it into her flesh all the same. She tipped her head and let the water run over her face and hair, losing her breath as the cold hit her chest. She tried to forget Finnan and the closed off, humiliated feelings he'd left her with; she tried to remember the young woman who had always loved the feeling of water or fine soft cloth against her skin… before learning to love most of all the feeling of Maukurz's smooth hard body against her skin. She tried to forget being hit and choked; not like Uncle Aelfreth with his belt when she'd done something dangerously foolish as a child, but like a piece of filth not fit for the world.

Halla stepped out of the water, shivering and hurrying to her bundle. She tore the sheet open, immediately lamenting how few garments she'd packed in her terror. And how absurdly fancy, the things she'd picked! Freezing at the high altitude, Halla shimmied herself quickly into a gown of white, soft wool, embroidered at hem and sleeves with stars in thread of silver. Silver fox fur trimmed the sleeves and collar, and she wrapped the matching stole around herself quickly, pulling her long wet hair over her shoulder. After she laced her sturdy boots and dropped her hem into the snow she called for Maukurz.

As soon as he emerged around the rocks, Halla hurried into his arms. "You're so _warm_…" she said, wanting him to carry her again.

_Oh, that's so much better, _Maukurz thought. He could swallow the lump of rage in his throat now. The twisting of his guts eased. "You look beautiful," he told her.

"I'm so cold!" Halla murmured. "Are you not cold?"

"Got thick skin, little girl," Maukurz replied. "Let's get your things together. Gonna be dark soon."

Halla nodded, reluctantly leaving his arms. She pulled the corners of the sheet together and wound them up. Maukurz lifted her again, and the heavy bundle, and carried her to his home.

The Uruks looked up at the exact same time, abandoning the bloody deer carcass. Shatauz, Narzum, and Dagalur looked to Baiurz, who grit his jaw. "If he's stolen that white-skin, he's done," Baiurz swore. "Go check it out."

Narzum was quite sure Maukurz hadn't stolen her; she'd come willing enough for him, that loose-hipped devil. He scurried out of the cave, Dagalur on his heels. Shatauz was close behind them, moving so fast that he crashed into their backs as they stood outside the cave, jaws hanging. They gaped at Captain Maukurz leading by the hand a vision of sweet, warm flesh in white and silver and pale gold.

Halla squeezed Maukurz's hand fearfully. _This is my home now?_ Halla wondered desperately. The three Uruks in front of the small cave mouth were staring at her like she was meat.

"You want me to make her a necklace outta your eyeballs?" Maukurz asked sharply, and three pairs of Uruk-hai eyes dropped to their feet.

"Baiurz is grumblin' already," Narzum said. "Thinks you stole her."

"Come on, Halla," Maukurz said, bringing her along.

Halla's eyes adjusted quickly to a long, narrow cave. A fire was near the front, where an old Uruk with long, scraggly salt and pepper hair, and mottled skin, sat over the bloody, torn carcass of a deer, watching them with hard, terrifying orange eyes. Halla's belly churned, and she dug her fingernails into Maukurz's hand.

Maukurz brought Halla to the fireside. He set the bundle down and squatted, drawing her down with him, to the dirty ground in her elegant dress. But Halla was more surprised by the change in her lover's demeanor. His head was bowed a little, his voice softened. "This is Halla, Commander. She's come to stay with me."

Baiurz looked furious—and terrifying, even though Halla noticed his mangled lower leg, covered in deep gouges and black blood that leaked onto the floor. But then, as his nostrils flared, his eyes turned noticeably curious. "_Baal-ta?"_

Maukurz nodded his head, eyes glowing.

Baiurz sighed and turned his stare on Halla. She swallowed, not wanting to cringe before him. _I must learn to _live_ with him, until we can make our own place. And who knows when or how we could do that?_

"You here of your own free will, Halla?" Baiurz asked.

"Ye—yes. Sir. Yes sir."

Maukurz grinned slightly, noting the amusement in his commander's stern face.

"Your people know where we are?"

"No one," Maukurz said.

"She can tell me," Baiurz snapped.

Halla shook her head. "No one knows."

Baiurz sighed heavily. There was no lie in the girl, but who could know if she was followed? And then again, it was almost too late in the year for white-skins to climb the mountains in any number anyhow. Baiurz was curious to see how _this_ little bite of cunt would survive the coming winter. He noted with wonder how tightly she held Maukurz's hand. _He's gonna drive the others crazy with fuckin' her,_ Baiurz thought, irritated. All the same: there was hope here. "Go ahead," Baiurz said, jerking his head towards the interior of the cave. "You take the way back now."

"She has medicine for you," Maukurz said. "Halla, take the medicine out."

Baiurz looked surprised at this.

"I should sew his wounds," Halla murmured, digging through her things for the little pot.

"No, he won't want that. He's gonna burn what he can shut, and leave the rest. But give him your medicine." Maukurz looked at the commander. "Put this stuff on your cuts, Commander. After you wash them."

It was plain that Maukurz just didn't want Halla touching anyone else. Halla handed the medicine to Maukurz, and he passed it to the commander.

"Good," Baiurz grumbled. "Go on now."

Maukurz bowed his head in thanks, and rose with Halla. He began to lead her away, hearing Baiurz say thoughtfully, "Maybe we'll be six again after all."

The back of the cave was a fair bit warmer than outside, but the light was dim. Maukurz set Halla's things down, then picked up a large pile of animal skins, furs and hides, and dropped the pile beside the bundle. "These were for clothes or whatever, but you'll be wantin' something soft to sleep on. Spread it out how you like. You hungry?"

"Very," Halla murmured, disoriented.

"Want your meat burned, right?"

Halla smiled a little. "Not _burned._ Just… brown on the outside, a little pink in the middle."

Maukurz caressed her with his eyes, smiling slowly. She was _his_ now, all the way. He stood watching her for a moment, laying out a bed with a medley of furs, then sitting on it and pulling her bundle close.

"What should I do with my jewels? My coin?" she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear.

"Oh—just put it on the wall. I'ma bring my stuff over, my uniform and tunic and kilt, my helmet… which does more work now holdin' drinking water."

"But… what about the others?"

"They don't care about that stuff, Halla," Maukurz said. "A _snaga _will rob you blind, but Uruks don't care about shiny shit, 'less it's chain mail. We got no use for it."

Halla nodded, surprise on her pretty face. She took out a series of bags in soft, fine material, then scooped up handfuls of coin and set them against the wall. She didn't seem satisfied, but she shrugged and sat back on their furs.

_This ain't no good,_ Maukurz thought suddenly. _I don't want no one watchin' us at night. I don't want no one seeing her perfect little body when she changes her clothes or lets me hold her._ Privacy was never something he'd cared about—or even had—before. But he had Halla now, and everything was different. It wasn't so much that Master had kept his breeders in cages deep in the earth… it was a quiet gut feeling that now came screaming forward: protect her, conceal her. Besides that, the idea of at least three leering faces in the background as he enjoyed Halla was rather nauseating to Maukurz.

"Take a walk with me, _ashgaz,_" Maukurz said, extending his hand. He would not leave her alone with the others: they respected him, but Halla's new presence would be intoxicating to them. They were bred to want her and trained to take her, and while his claim and his whelp should be enough to freeze their lust, he wouldn't test it by visually torturing them.

Halla took his hand, and they went out into the twilight. The sky and the mountains were purple, and the snow glistened and sparkled in the purest white. The only trees were pines, red bark and deep green needles. The whole area smelled of pines, Halla noted. Maukurz soon found two young trees, about his height, and ripped them out of the ground.

"There's a nice bit of dirt on the cave floor, and I wanna make a screen for us. So we have our own place."

"Oh that's a good idea!"Halla said, relieved. Maukurz looked over his shoulder, grinning sharply. He smacked the uprooted tree against the ground, freeing the dirt that clung to the roots.

They returned to the cave. "Shatauz!" Maukurz called, pointing Halla back to their bed. She went automatically, deeply uncomfortable around the other Uruks. "Need a knife," Maukurz said.

Halla sat on the furs again, smoothing her hands over them. Lynx, mostly, though there was a wolf pelt as well. None were big enough to serve as an adequate blanket. _I could sew them together,_ Halla thought.

Maukurz busied himself spitting some meat on a stick and setting it over the fire. Then he took a blade from Shatauz, who was near speechless like the other Uruks at the close, unscreaming presence of a female. While the meat cooked and Halla arranged their clothes against the wall—taking special time to look over his uniform and chain mail, Maukurz noted—he prepared two stakes and drove them into the cave floor. He took Halla's sheet and tore at it, then tied the frayed pieces around the stakes so that it hung halfway across the cave floor, screening their sleeping area. Soon enough—as Halla's belly rumbled—Maukurz returned with the meat. He held it out to her, but she paled slightly.

"How… am I to eat it?"

Maukurz looked at her curiously, and Halla realized again just how complicated she'd made her life. But she was determined to get through it. "I can't eat like this," she said. "I don't put my food on the floor. I don't... tear at it with my teeth."

Maukurz frowned thoughtfully, then picked up his folded mail shirt and set it before her. He dropped her hot steak on the metal, and started slicing it into tiny bits with the knife and his claws. Halla watched curiously. "Little pieces, huh?" Maukurz asked.

Halla nodded. He shreaded the whole steak, sat beside her, and then shredded his own raw chunk of meat and ate it savoringly. Halla looked away from the sight of red blood running over Maukurz's lips, wondering how she'd ever get used to such things. But the meat was good—incredibly good, to her breeding body—and afterwards she took a sip from a helmet full of water. She stared at it for a moment, flashing briefly on the horror that one item would have caused her a year before. Everything was jumbled and confused, and Halla didn't have it in her to think too much. She listened numbly to the raucous laughter of Uruks, glad that they'd switched into their dark language to make their jokes. Every so often Maukurz would grit his teeth, bristling at whatever they said… and then he'd shake his head and laugh, looking at her with warm, rich eyes.

After eating, Halla was incredibly tired. "I didn't bring a nightgown," she told Maukurz regretfully. "I didn't bring much, did I?" she asked, irritated with herself.

"We'll make sense of it," Maukurz promised. "Here, you want something more comfortable? Take my army shirt." He reached into the pile by the wall and brought out a loose black tunic, and tossed it to Halla. He watched her hold it in the air with shining eyes, and Halla realized just how happy she'd made him.

"You still wanna be private?" he asked softly.

"No," Halla murmured, fearful but determined. Suddenly, from somewhere in the cave there came a deep, hungry rhythm from a skin drum. Halla remembered Maukurz talking about Narzum nearly drowning for his drum. Now the Uruk thumped out a rich song, and Halla had the strangest notion it was for her. As night settled in their laughter softened into quieter, softer sounds, murmurs made from what beds they made for themselves on the other side of the hanging sheet.

Halla dropped her fur. She hated that she felt a flush of shame as she undid the laces on her soft white dress. As soon as she did, Maukurz sat behind her. She caught her shaking breath as his hands came to her hips. He gently bunched the fabric in his hands, pulling it up over her legs. Halla sighed, tears coming to her eyes, for she felt none of her old excitement, only a thick tension and a flush of shame. Maukurz slowly pulled her dress off, with all the leisure of a Man unwrapping a delicious fruit. She felt Maukurz slide closer, his bent legs on either side of her and his hips—and all else—pressed against her back. He slipped his hands around the cut of her waist and she thought he might grab her breasts, but instead his hands moved tenderly over her belly. She was reminded of their baby, and it soothed her, and his hands were warm and gentle. "Come on," he breathed, and Halla hung her head, her tears falling slowly.

Maukurz felt her sadness like a slow, dull knife. "Shh…" he whispered, brushing her long beautiful hair over her shoulder, pressing his mouth against her neck. He could feel her pulse thump against his tongue. He smelled fear all over her soft skin. He bit back his hard, frustrated sigh, banished all thoughts that the horse boy had spoiled his girl. It was—in his opinion—merely a matter of making her body crave his, and that was, in his experience, easily done.

"Lie down," he murmured, slipping to her side and easing her back onto the soft furs. Her body was perfection to Maukurz. More than anything, he wanted to hold her tight in his arms and bury himself inside her. But he knew her sadness well, and so he did what he would have done in Isengard: he crept down her belly, and ran his tongue between her legs. He covered his warm mouth over the place she was hurt, with plans to make her come whether her heart and mind wanted her to or not. He'd never felt Halla so dry and it terrified him, but he was sure he knew how to remedy that.

Halla tried hard to feel pleasure, but she only felt wanton and humiliated that she once would have enjoyed such a thing. Finally she covered her face with her arms, a hard cry escaping her that cut at Maukurz. He looked up at his _ashgaz,_ her face hidden behind pointy elbows. For whatever reason, the old trick wasn't working, just when it had never mattered more.

Maukurz crawled over Halla and gently pulled her arms away, only to see her eyes pinched shut. He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "What do you want? What can I do to please you?"

A choked sob came from her throat. "I don't know!" she cried softly. She opened her eyes, surprised to see hurt in Maukurz's face. Halla's sigh was a shudder of jagged pain. "Hold me," she breathed. "Hold me… kiss me…" she said. "Tell me you love me… Tell me I'm not… a _whore…_"

Maukurz ate his furious, agonized growl, his whisper harsh when he told her he loved her. He couldn't even say the word _whore_: it was a bad insult for a _sharlob_, he knew, and one that made no sense to him. He only knew that _pushdug_ must have cut her with the word, and it made her ashamed, and her shame was holding her captive like one of Master's cruel little cages. And no matter what Maukurz had done inside those little pens, nothing, he realized, had ever gotten rid of their _shame. _Maukurz was terrified: he didn't know what to do now. He wondered if this was his payback, for ruining so many females, having his own sweet Halla destroyed. That Halla had done nothing to deserve it didn't matter: the world had never been a fair place for anyone.

But slowly, Halla warmed to his kisses. Slowly, she kissed him back, and Maukurz was almost undone by relief. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him, and as he kissed her and whispered to her, he thought that just maybe she needed comfort more than pleasure. It was sweet torture to be on top of her warm naked body without going inside her, _but whatever it takes,_ he thought, _whatever it takes, I will have her happy again._

And after a long while, she welcomed him again, though it was a good deal more painful than ordinarily. Maukurz hated the thought of hurting her. But Halla was desperate to see him, her hands holding his face, her wide blue eyes studying his features in the darkness as she gasped at his slow, careful dance. He whispered in her ear, telling her again and again that he loved her, that he would protect her, that he would die for her. Finally all thoughts left Halla and she sighed, surrendering to the warmth and love and safety in Maukurz's arms, the deep rhythm of the drum echoing around them like a heartbeat.

Halla was drowsy with relief and pleasure, exhausted with the end of her ordeal. She was hardly aware as Maukurz helped her into his big black tunic, then drew her into his arms. She didn't even notice that the drumming had stopped. Halla lay thoughtless against Maukurz's warm, hard chest, watching the fire dance behind the white sheet, hearing other sighs and groans without comprehending anything. Finally she shivered and sighed, and curled tight against Maukurz, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

_baal-ta?_ - she's breeding?


	22. Chapter 22

In the grey light before dawn, her scent wrapped around him in his sleep. In the best dream of his life, Maukurz reached out and actually _felt_ what he craved, tucked close to him. His hands swept over her on instinct, stroking her softly, settling in the warmth between her legs. After only a moment of his sleeping touches, his hands were wet and the powerful scent of feminine arousal slapped him in the face, waking him. Yet the dream was so sweet that Maukurz childishly refused to open his eyes… even as his hands now played with deliberate and provocative intent, his cock was raging stiff, and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. _My Halla's here at last…_

There was no shame in the place between sleeping and waking, where the subconscious ruled all. And while in their waking hours Men did their damnest to ignore their primitive senses and instincts, in her sleep Halla knew her lover by scent and touch, and even the faster rhythm of his beating heart. She came awake dreamily, arching her back instinctively, encouraging and accepting him, too immersed in ecstasy to give any thought to the profound relief sweeping through her. She came even before Maukurz could get fully inside her. Sighing deeply, Maukurz coaxed Halla onto her belly, took her hips in his hands and rose on his knees behind her.

On the other side of the screen Dagalur threw off Narzum's arm, groaning miserably. "Peaches…" he muttered. "Oh, damn I want next!"

Narzum rose up with a low, threatening growl, pinning his playmate's shoulders to the floor. "Fuckin' _think_ about it, I'll spit yuh and eat yuh, and _not_ the way yuh like."

"What the fuck is this?" Baiurz hissed in Black Speech, blinking in the dawn.

Narzum glared at Dagalur, then released him. "Nothin' boss," he said, staring a hard warning at Dagalur.

"Better be nothin'!" Baiurz whispered fiercely. "She got our next brother in her belly, and she'll probably pump out a couple more after that! I don't care how good it smells—or sounds! Anyone fucks with her gonna be her next meal!"

Maukurz's sharp hearing picked up the dangerous exchange. By now he had Halla on her back, her legs hooked over his shoulders. He kissed her mouth roughly to smother her little gasps and mewls of pleasure, then lay his fingers over her lips, shaking his head. There was something deeply erotic about this new need for silence, and Maukurz let himself enjoy it fully. But once he'd finished, he stood and stretched like a satisfied beast. "You'll wanna get dressed, _ashgaz_," he said, nodding to her pile of clothes. All the same, Maukurz strutted naked around the sheet dividing the cave.

"Aww, shit," Dagalur moaned.

"Yeah, gimp-nuts," Maukurz sneered, grabbing his wet cock. "You want somethin' I got?"

"Enough!" Bauirz spat, sitting up, frustrated to no end about his mangled leg. "We ain't fightin' over snatch! Now there's huntin' to do! Shatauz got a new bow he wants to try out, and there's water and meat and firewood to gather! So if you—Maukurz—are quite done stinkin' up my cave with your musk, and you, Dagalur, are done runnin' face first into a pile of hurt, maybe you fools can get to work! Or yuh think winter just gonna wait for us to be ready?"

"Back to work, whelps," Narzum grinned, leaning back against the cave wall, picking his teeth leisurely with one sharp claw.

Maukurz glared at Dagalur, then let it go. He cut his eyes to the left and sucked his teeth playfully at Narzum. "Yeah, you first, cock-sucker."

"Not lately," Narzum chuckled, casting a glance at the brown Uruk. Dagalur, utterly defeated, huffed his way out to find some wood or meat, whatever took him farthest away from the cave.

Maukurz looked right. Shatauz woke lazily, but his eyes were wide with amusement. It didn't take the sharpest buck to figure out that the girl would cause trouble… Or need to be ignored, as much as Shatauz could possibly manage.

"What you used for the string?" Maukurz asked.

"Guts. Check it out."

Maukurz knelt by Shatauz, inspecting the well worked wooden bow. There was no recurve on it, a pity, but the string was strong and needed some force to draw. "Shoulda been in the armory," Maukurz said appreciatively.

"Not with all them fucking _snaga_," Shatauz said idly, admiring his work.

"Ever figure out what was in them spike-balls?" Maukurz asked, looking at the other Uruk sideways.

"Still dunno. Smelt like piss," Shatauz said thoughtfully.

"Maybe it was piss," Maukurz said, grinning.

"Yeah, wizard piss," Narzum said. "Blows up, kills Elves by the thousands. I heard the Man-king was keepin' him alive in a dungeon, bottlin' the shit. Just in case."

Baiurz—his age rendering him most superstitious of Saruman—shook his head. He pushed himself up, gimping out on his bloody foot to take a piss himself.

"He don't like that shit," Maukurz warned.

"Nobody likes that shit," Shatauz said, looking at Narzum. "Know he ain't dead. Sometimes I think: what if he's calling boys up, and we're wrong somehow, can't hear him…"

"The whole fucking thing is done," Maukurz said firmly. "You get it? You remember the end of last winter? It's over. We're here, don't know who else is, don't really fuckin' matter. We're gonna live, we're gonna keep goin', that's all that matters. We don't need his power. We got plenty of our own. Just gotta grow it and train it up."

Maukurz looked thoughtfully over his shoulder, gratefully, towards the white sheet. The other two Uruks didn't look, but they nodded their heads, and allowed themselves to hope.

* * *

"I'm surprised you show your face here," Finnan said, looking up with the drizzle pelting his face.

Edwyn rocked one heel back, digging a spur into the mud. "Well, you know I'm crazy."

"Where is she, Edwyn?" Finnan asked coldly.

Edwyn sighed. "D'you really want her back?"

Finnan held his head in his hands, pressing his fingertips into his wet hair as if his head would explode. "I can't even _believe _it. The more I think of it… It's just… _insane._ Halla? Little, quiet Halla? Of _all_ our women to like… that… Not her."

Edwyn arched his eyebrows, wondering if Finnan had ever taken a true look at his wayward bride. Or, Edwyn wondered, was that just his firsthand knowledge of what had somehow crept in and seduced Finnan's wife? Finnan was properly horrified, but Edwyn, treasonously, thought he might understand the girl. All those lean hard muscles… and those knowing eyes… But far more than that, Edwyn was also deeply interested in figuring out _how_ Maukurz had come so close, so quietly.

"Will she keep her mouth shut?" Finnan asked sharply, thinking of the more pressing concern.

"I think so. She doesn't want to be put aside, though, or have her name made a scandal."

"So she thinks she's coming _back?_" Finnan asked.

Edwyn turned away, his eyes landing on a slim, graceful hawk circling overhead. He closed his eyes, wondering if he had saved Halla, or merely gotten her out of the way. He didn't want to think he was capable of that… even though, at the time of the wedding, he couldn't have dreamed up a better way to get the girl out of the picture and ensuring she would _never_ have influence over her husband.

_Except… I like Halla. She's full of life, and her heart is open. Though I don't want her with Finnan. And… it's my duty to find out where the Uruk came from. And together, none of it makes any sense…_

"I don't know if she'll come back or not," Edwyn said truthfully. "You did try to kill her. I think, right now, you are a monster to her."

"Interesting choice of words," Finnan said bitterly, rising from the steps. "I suppose she likes being roughed up."

"I don't think so, Finnan... At least, I've never seen her bruised _before._" Edwyn caught Finnan's arm, stared him down. "What _happened_ to you? I wonder if I know you."

Finnan glared, shook his head. He shrugged his arm away and walked on. "It's not the same anymore," he complained. "Out there… everything was so clear. You did what you were called to do. Here… it's all politics and threats and building wealth, hanging onto it with fangs. I was never meant for this. Everard was. He was their golden son, the ideal heir. All I want is to ride away, and never look back. Rescue a village, ride down my enemy. Feel the wind in my face, and never, _ever_ have to balance my books again."

"Well, you could get a steward for that," Edwyn said gently, smiling.

Finnan closed his eyes, groaning. "D'you know what she did? I've no idea how, with all that went on... Yesterday morning, the miller says, she sent him five pounds of silver and told him to take it off the mill fees. Why would she do a thing like that? Is she soft in the head?"

"The heart, I think," Edwyn said quietly. _I just hope it's not her downfall._

* * *

The rain over Finnan and Edwyn was fog and light snow up in the mountains, where Halla and Maukurz walked along, picking up what firewood they could find. Halla's feet were frozen in her boots and her cheeks were crimson, but the view, even obscured by the weather, was marvelous. Halla might have thought herself in one of the enchanted lands of the tales Aunt Hilda had told her.

"Did you shoot that wolf?" Halla asked, thinking of the soft but pungent fur she'd curled up on.

Maukurz looked at her sideways, shaking his head and smiling. "_Nooo_, never. He was already dying from someone _else's_ arrow. Slow and hard, too. I sent him on his way. Sometimes there ain't nothin' else to do." He swept down, picking up the sticks Halla was carrying, then stealing the little bundle from her arms and adding it to his own. "There's a whole pack of wolves up here. The top female was in heat not too long back. She'll be havin' pups when the snows are deep, I think. Baiurz says eat 'em when they come, but I won't be lettin' that happen."

"He was mad this morning," Halla said quietly, anxious again. "I could tell when we left. He doesn't want me here. He doesn't like me."

Maukurz leaned against her, murmuring, "He likes you just fine because of Baby. He likes you more than you know. He said, anyone who bothers you, he's gonna kill and make you a nice meal from."

Halla grimaced. "I suppose that's… kind of him…"

Maukurz laughed. "You're gonna be just fine, _ashgaz._ You'll see."

"Cap'n you done yet?" Shatauz called through the fog. "It's clear a ways down… just some rain, and the deer are cold and lazy!"

"You shoot?" Maukurz asked Halla.

She shook her head. "My uncle wouldn't teach me. He said it wasn't a woman's role. Even… in the War."

"Aw, forget that," Maukurz said. "Come on, let's go get us a deer."

It was a thrill for Halla to walk beside the two Uruks, knowing they meant her no harm. Shatauz was shorter and thicker-set than Maukurz, but there was a rather Mannish gleam in his green eyes. Of course that was destroyed by his rather prominent incisors, long, piercing fangs that could rip easily through flesh. And he was as giddy as a little boy at a harvest fair, excited about the possibility of his bow being serviceable enough to be duplicated for the use of the others. It was odd for Halla to look at the two powerful males while knowing how utterly vulnerable they were. Like children, almost, just learning how to survive on their own, starting out with absolutely nothing.

Maukurz dropped off the firewood in the mouth of the cave. Baiurz peered out to see Halla standing in arm's length of Shatauz. The old Uruk figured out he'd have to look out for the girl: two sets of eyes were better than one, when it came to three horny _pizurks_ breathing her in day and night. What she had to offer him—a future—made Baiurz determined not only to see Halla safe, but _glad_ to stay in their company. Force wouldn't work anymore, at least where mating was concerned: they had no cages, and they didn't have the numbers to guard girls to keep them from running off. But maybe, if such a fine looking white-skin was happy to join their company—and obviously glad to mate, that was clear enough—others might follow. Baiurz would like to see a female for each of the others he had in his care. He had no idea how long it took without Master to make a whelp; Halla was Baiurz's experiment.

"Thinkin' hard, boss," Maukurz said amicably.

"Yup. Where you takin' her?"

"Gonna hunt, then teach her to shoot a little. Idiot Men never gave her a chance to learn."

"Good," Baiurz said. "Real good. Weapons make you feel strong, and we want her strong."

Maukurz looked at his commander curiously.

"Get on, now! Meat ain't gonna walk in here on its own!"

Laughing—and deeply relieved that Baiurz accepted Halla after the morning's trouble—Maukurz took Halla by the hand and followed Shatauz down the mountain.


	23. Chapter 23

Shatauz had done good reconnaissance. There was indeed a herd of red deer moving slowly through the slick, chilly forest, huddling together against the first cold of the season. Halla followed as best as she could in the wake of the two creeping Uruks. The wind was blowing in from the northeast, drawing the cold down the mountain, so the party was careful to get well around the deer. One breath of their scent would send the deer stampeding away, cold or not.

They decided to shoot at the same time. Maukurz loaned Shatauz one of his arrows, one with more orange than brown so that they'd know for certain how effective the new bow was. Halla stood behind the hunters as they crept within range of the herd, Shatauz getting a little closer to compensate for the lack of recurve. She watched them eagerly, the first of the turning leaves swirling like wet yellow snowflakes around the Uruks. Halla watched the muscles in Maukurz's back ripple as he drew the Rohirric bow, a warm flush creeping up her throat to know that all of that male power was _hers._ Then the two Uruks let their arrows fly. The deer startled and came to life, bolting in terror, leaving behind two downed does. Shatauz let out a whoop of joy, and the Uruks ran in to see their kills. Halla followed behind.

"Oh…." Shatauz purred gleefully. "Look how deep the arrow went in!"

"She's not dead," Halla said, looking up at Maukurz. The doe's breath gurgled; the arrow had punctured the lungs, but not the heart.

"She will be," Shatauz said, stomping one sandaled foot on the animal and bending down to wrench his arrow out.

Maukurz narrowed his eyes at Halla, then put his hand on Shatauz's arm. "Get your knife, cut her throat quick."

Shatauz shrugged, pulled his best knife out of the strap of hide he'd tied around his thick thigh. He bent and cut the doe's throat in one efficient stroke. Halla had felt invigorated by the cold and the morning's lovemaking, but at the great gorge of blood gushing from the doe's neck, her stomach clenched and bile rose, and she spun away from the Uruks just in time to vomit all over the soggy earth. The smell of the fresh blood in the cold air reminded her of the blood month when Uncle Aelfred slaughtered the terrified, squealing hogs. Helpless, Halla vomited again and again until her belly and her throat burned, and tears rushed down her cheeks.

Maukurz was over her quickly. He'd had the sense to gather her long pale hair in one hand, and now that she was done throwing up, trembling from the exertion, he swept her up in his arms.

"She sick?" Shatauz asked nervously. "Or she don't like blood?"

"No," Maukurz told him. "You never went in the pits, so you wouldn't know. When the whelp takes sometimes they puke. Just means the whelp's gettin' stronger."

"I think… I think I'm better…" Halla said shakily.

"All the same, I think I'm gonna show you how to shoot later. You need to eat something now."

Halla groaned at the thought of food, but her belly growled. "I can walk," she said. "You all have to carry the deer anyway."

"So the little one's growing now?" Shatauz asked eagerly. "Just now, it got bigger?"

Maukurz didn't like anyone else talking or thinking about Halla—especially Halla's body—but he understood that her pregnancy was going to be a source of interest and excitement for the entire group. Maukurz and Baiurz, the only officers, were the only ones who'd been ordered to the pits. And even those two had been moved on to the next female as soon as pregnancy was verified by the Master. Breeding was a mystery to them.

Halla laughed softly. "I think it always grows, bit by bit all the time. But the baby is very small now. Of course, I don't know how different this will be…" Halla said, squeezing Maukurz's hip playfully, bringing a quick smile to the Uruk's face. No matter how long he had her with him, the thrill of being touched affectionately by her would never lessen.

Maukurz shrugged his deer up on his shoulders and took her hand. "How long does it take to be done? When can I see him?"

"Nine months—nine turns of the moon. So Baby will be born in the springtime, since it was the middle of August—I think that day by the pool did it—"

"Yep," Maukurz chuckled. "I fucked up. Missed you so damn much…"

"I'm glad, Maukurz," Halla said, drawing his hand to her lips quickly. "Truly, I am glad. I love you. I belong with you."

"My _ashgaz_," Maukurz murmured, elated.

"Now I'm gonna puke," Shatauz muttered.

"Shut the fuck up," Maukurz growled, shoving the other Uruk's shoulder roughly. "Halla… tell us more about Baby."

Shatauz grinned eagerly, nodding his head. Halla smiled, enjoying how open the Uruks were with each other. Not like Men, who guarded their emotions and prevaricated and could hate someone for having the wrong manners, or not enough money! After her marriage, such honesty, as she saw it, was downright refreshing to Halla. "Well," she said, "I'm going to get a little bigger—just for a while, Maukurz, so don't worry."

"You, big?" he laughed, but then he furrowed his brow and asked, "How… big?" He pictured himself crawling inside Halla's body, he imagined the whelps coming out of their sacks, and the combined image was disgustingly terrifying.

"Not terribly big," Halla assured him, pouting a little in empathy at Maukurz's horrified expression. "A Mannish baby's about so big when it's born," she said, slipping out of Maukurz's grasp to hold her hands up. "Your baby can't be too much bigger…" Halla said, her voice trailing off. She didn't need to think about what could go wrong.

"Do you know... how to get it out?" Maukurz wondered anxiously.

Halla took Maukurz's hand again. "It comes out the same way it got in. It's what women's bodies are made to do."

Maukurz grimaced. He remembered how hard it was the first time he'd taken her. How she cried out for him to stop, how she bled. Even now he was careful with her. Maukurz had been so wrapped up in pleasure-physical and otherwise-to think much about the specifics of whelping. Now he was worried-terrified, even-that Baby would hurt Halla. He couldn't bear to think of anything bad happening to her. "I'm no Man, _ashgaz,"_ Maukurz said softly, masking his anxieties as best he could for her sake. "What if Baby gets too big, and can't come out? How would I save you?"

"I don't think my body will let that happen," Halla said, frowning.

"Can you be sure?"

"Ailith's baby didn't cause her problems," Halla said, and then she caught her breath and bit her lip. _Stupid!_ Halla chided herself.

Maukurz looked at her sharply. "There was a whelp? A baby?"

Halla worried her lower lip; she looked up at Maukurz, meeting his suprised face. "Yes," Halla admitted. She tried to direct the conversation away, so that she didn't have to tell him what Ailith had done. "And she lived, she wasn't harmed."

"Did the baby live?"

Halla shook her head. "She was... not well in her mind then, Maukurz." Halla sighed, thinking how much more she could sympathize with Ailith now; thinking how horrible the whole thing was.

"She killed it," he said, looking back out to the narrow trail.

"Yes."

Maukurz swallowed hard, wondering why it should upset him so much. He, who had fathered hundreds, all of whom were dead now! What did one more dead whelp matter? Had he really just never _thought_ of it before? His own offspring?

He squeezed Halla's hand tightly. "So Baby's gonna be little when he comes outta yuh. How long does he take to get big?"

"That I _don't_ know," Halla said, smoothing her thumb softly over the back of Maukurz's hand. "You all _are_ different. But probably some years. And it might not be a _he_, Maukurz."

"Cap'n don't shoot females," Shatauz said, grinning as he rejoined the conversation.

_Yes I do,_ Maukurz thought. He banished the thought from his mind, though he couldn't forget his Master's cold gaze as the half-formed female Uruk was stripped from the sack, thin-skinned and freakishly weak, just to be butchered. _I am disappointed with you, Captain,_ the wizard had said, his voice cold steel slipping neatly into flesh.

_"_Watch you mouth, shit face," Maukurz snapped. He breathed deeply and looked down at Halla again, her lovely face, dispelling the uncomfortable dark memories. "Whatever it is, male or female, I will be glad," Maukurz said firmly. "All of us will be glad. But we need males most."

"You sure about that?" Halla asked, smiling at him. Here Maukurz was the same as any Man, wanting a son. "Seeing as how females are hard to come by, I think a girl might be better."

"Give us a few of each," Shatauz compromised.

Maukurz growled, glaring at Shatauz. But Halla stood up for herself. "All right, _now_ you're pushing it," Halla laughed at the other Uruk. "It's not easy to have a baby! And it's certainly not _yours. _You'll be his or her uncle. That' the father's brother. You can teach Baby how to make knives and bows."

Shatauz was charmed. He grinned, and the situation was diffused without any bad feelings for anyone. Maukurz let go of Halla's hand and slung his arm over her hips, hugging her to him.

"With Shatauz's bows, we'll have plenty to feed you," Maukurz told her gladly. "Everyone's gonna have his own, and we'll make you one too. 'Cause you won't be able to pull mine without my help. But you don't have to get your own meat. I do that for you, and Baby until he—or she, I guess—is big enough to hunt." Maukurz grinned, imagining the future, all of his life with Halla, surrounded by his strong offspring.

"It's gonna be hard to hunt in the high snows," Shatauz warned. "Remember what it was like up here two winters back, when we camped out after those raids? That's what I can't figure: how we'll hunt on the bad days, when the blizzards come in."

"Hunt in the snows?" Halla asked. "Whatever for? Don't you lay meat aside for the winter?"

"Meat rots," Shatauz said, shaking his head. "Cave'll get all full of flies and maggots."

"We'll smoke it," Halla said. "Set up a frame over a fire, then make thin strips of meat and hang them over the fire. We'd also smoke the fire up by adding some wet wood and damp leaves. The smoke dries the meat, and then we can store it for the winter."

"Oh, she's good," Shatauz said approvingly.

Maukurz squeezed Halla's' hips gently, knowing he was lucky indeed.

* * *

After feeding Halla a small steak, Maukurz and Shatauz got to work on butchering their deer as Halla told them to. There was snow on the ground, but the Uruks quickly dug out a pit and lined it with stones. Halla was astounded at how fast they could work. She thought sadly that all of their bodies, for what she'd seen of them, were covered in not only battle scars but whiplash. Saruman had forced the incredible strength of the Uruks to wicked use; but, Halla thought, here they were now turning that strength towards preserving their small community. They were certainly rough spoken and tempermental, but they had the same problems and concerns as everyone else; even more so, for it seemed they new precious little about surviving. _There is no reason we can't live side by side in peace,_ she thought, _Uruks and Men._ She wondered desperately if something like that could be achieved before Baby's time came. _If only Ailith would help me…_ There was no one who knew better. But, Halla realized, all of that was about as likely as the sun rising in the night. _I will be on my own for the birth. I'd just better prepare myself for it._

Halla put her hands on her hips and smiled, watching her lover and his friend as they tied long strips of venison to the high frame. "You're doing it perfectly!" she said, and Maukurz grinned at her, bright eyed.

From the cave, Baiurz watched with grudging wonder and admiration. Halla had won his approval yet again. Usually whatever was slaughtered was thrown down on the floor and devoured down to the bones, which the Uruks bit open and sucked the marrow from. But this way, Halla's way, would keep their bellies full on the worst winter days. _I'll defend that girl with my life,_ Baiurz thought, nodding to himself.

"Hey, what's this shit?" Narzum called as he approached the cave, dragging the broken carcass of a goat along by a horn. "A warning to the other deer?"

Halla laughed along with Maukurz and Shatauz. "My lil girl figured out how to keep us full on days we can't find meat," Maukurz said proudly. "The smoke'll keep the maggots off, and we can store it in the cave."

"We'll dig a pit!" Halla added brightly. "If the soil's deep in the cave, we can do it there. Dig a pit and line it with stone, put in the smoked meat and cover it with stone or hides.

"Nice," Narzum said. "No more hungry days, huh? Nice. But wait… Where's Dagalur? He never came back?"

"He's probably runnin' it off," Shatauz said. "Wearin' himself out a bit, so he don't get so…" the Uruk looked at Maukurz, rather than Halla. "Heated up. At night."

"_Nar usta za kau," _Maukurz growled, but then he looked at Halla, and her nervous eyes were on the fire and a flush was in her cheeks. She knew just what was going on. "I don't wanna kill him," Maukurz told the others quietly. "But I will."

* * *

Dagalur lay on his belly in the thorny bushes, watching a camp of Dunlendings. His eyes were fixated on a thick hipped woman with long, tied back red hair. She scraped a hide, her heavy breasts swinging back and forth behind her dress with her motion. Suddenly she stopped, as if someone had called her. She rose on her knees, wiping a lock of red hair from her sun-tanned face. Two little Man-whelps ran up to her, a male and a female, pushing and shouting at each other. The boy had a bruised apple in his hands, and the girl pointed and shouted and sobbed. Dagalur watched as the woman grabbed the apple and used her skinning knife to cut it in half. She offered the little whelps each a piece, and they snatched it and ran off without a backwards glance. The woman stared after them for a moment, then took her knife and bent over again, efficiently scraping away. The wind blew in Dagalur's face and he inhaled deeply, licking his lips.

Only moments later, there was a shout and a group of furry, hide-wearing Men burst out of one of their mean round dwellings. They hadn't seen Dagalur—not a chance—but all the same they were armed with clubs and close enough to the woods to catch him if they only walked about a little. The Uruk shuffled backwards, thorns scraping over his tough skin, tearing at the shoulders of his tunic. He was disappointed to leave, but he had seen what he wanted now. All that remained was figuring out how to get it.

* * *

"_Nar usta za kau_" - "He won't think of that again"


	24. Chapter 24

The Uruk-hai spent the good part of the day smoking the meat, making the wolves curious and sending a thin plume of smoke into the sky, but getting a nice head start on the winter. Shatauz went out hunting twice again, while Maukurz and Halla worked on smoking the fire. Baiurz sat in the cave counting in his head, trying to figure how much in rations they'd need to get through all the days of winter. He thought he'd count Halla at a half-portion, but then thought of the whelp, and decided she needed as much meat as anyone. "Gonna have to kill a whole mess more meat," Baiurz grumbled to himself. "But the bows will help that along."

The clear, cold evening came in, the storm clouds pulling away like ghostly fingers revealing a field of brilliant stars. Dagalur returned, steaming as if he'd run for miles and miles. He bore no grudge to anyone, and was humble in Maukurz's presence, hoping his moment of stupidity could be forgiven. As he walked past through the moonlit snow, Dagalur kept his eyes down and didn't even notice Halla.

Halla was reassured by the Uruk's behavior, and she was certain that Maukurz would defend her, kill for her even, though he said he didn't want to have to do it to his friend. The younger four Uruks were truly more like brothers, even though Maukurz had dominance over them, like an older brother. And Baiurz, Halla thought, was a stern and grim but fair father to them.

Halla was excited as well. She'd been miserable the evening before, noticing only how grim and frightening it was in the cave. Now Halla thought that she _did_ know how to do a fair number of practical things that would improve life in the cave. Shatauz taking the backstrap sinews from the deer they processed for his bows gave her the first idea.

"I can make candles," Halla told Maukurz as she sat down on their bed of furs. "They would brighten things up nicely back here. When I see Edwyn tomorrow, I will ask him to bring me rope and a bucket. We can use the fat from the animals you hunt."

"I saw some candles in Isengard," Maukurz said, sitting beside her. "That'd be good. What other tricks you got?" he asked, grinning. Maukurz was thrilled that Halla wanted to help them, even if it was only to make things more comfortable for herself. He'd been sure she'd be fearful and timid, and maybe even unwilling to remain. The day could not have gone better for Maukurz, in that aspect.

"Mmm… I'm going to think of how to build a bathtub next," Halla said, smiling. "How _am_ I to wash here, Maukurz?"

"I'll fill my helmet with snow, and melt it by the fireside. That's all I've got for you at night."

"Oh…" Halla breathed. There would be no soap either, no oil rinses for her hair… What she needed to do was find a way to go to a town market, because it was unlikely that Edwyn would serve as a go between for Halla and the world of Men. At any rate, there was nothing to do about it _tonight._ Halla smiled. "Yes, please."

Maukurz pushed himself up and grabbed his helmet. Halla grabbed her grey dress, the one Finnan had torn at the shoulder. She figured that even though she was short on dresses, she'd probably never want to put that one on again. With just a little effort, she ripped a large enough piece off for a rag, and when Maukurz returned, she used it as effectively as she could with the tepid water. It was even a less satisfactory scrubbing than in the little waterfall the day before, but Halla was determined not to be upset about such drawbacks to living with Maukurz. And he certainly had no objections to her; his eyes caressed her appreciatively as she washed, and as soon as she wrung the rag out to dry, he swept her up in his arms and walked her to the cave wall. Surprised and bewildered, Halla wrapped her legs around his hips. She gasped sharply as he pushed inside her, desire and waves of pleasure rippling through her at those first eager thrusts. Conscious of the other Uruks just beyond the sheet, Halla tried desperately to stay quiet. She buried her face in Maukurz's neck, kissing him and nipping him with her teeth, feverishly aroused by his low, purring growl. "Oh, that feels so _good_..." Halla whispered in his ear, thrilling him.

"Tell me if this hurts you," Maukurz whispered, and Halla widened her eyes curiously. He withdrew somewhat, grinning at her urgent little whimper.

"Come _back_…" Halla pleaded softly.

"Wait." Still cupping her backside, Maukurz pulled her legs up one at a time and rested them against his shoulders, all but folding her in half so that his hips and chest rested against the backs of her slim legs. When he entered her now, it was so fully Halla nearly swooned. She couldn't help her soft, low, shaking moan of pleasure as Maukurz slowly dug into her, bit by bit, pushing a little deeper with every stroke. Like the night of the storm, he didn't rush things, knowing how easily he could hurt her small body. Once she was able to take him fully, he worked her slowly, taking advantage of her exposed position and rolling his hips—and hard pelvic bone—against the sensitive tip of her sex until the girl was melting with bliss.

"_Quiet_…" he rasped. Bad enough they could hear his own deeply content growls and deep, shaking breaths. At some point Halla couldn't hold herself up at all anymore. She hung from him limply, her arms draped weakly around his neck, her entire body shaking as she came until she didn't know when one shattering climax ended and another began. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled against his chest, as if it was far too much for her, as if she was a breath away from passing out entirely.

Maukurz came so hard he thought he'd fall down. His legs were turning liquid and his head was spinning. He leaned against Halla and the cave wall, trying to catch his breath. He knew why she kissed now; there was nothing _else_ to do, nothing better, to show her how he felt. Maukurz kissed her beautiful face softly, kissed the exhausted smile that curled her full lips. He carefully let Halla's legs down, then carried her to the bed, kissing her again, slowly, as he lay her down. The way her eyes caressed him—drowsy from passion, full of love and even awe—felt _almost_ as good as fucking her. How had he ever done without such affection from a partner? The sex was incomparable, a thousand times better with Halla than with some poor terrified woman he had to take by force. Her sleepy blue eyes fluttering, she took his strong hand and brought it to her ruddy, flushed lips. "I love you, Maukurz…" Halla whispered, her eyes not opening again.

Maukurz left Halla sleeping and passed through the cave to take a piss. Dagalur was knocked out beside Narzum, and Shatauz was lying staring at the arching roof of the cave as if he was thinking hard on something. Baiurz stared hard at Maukurz, as if to tell him he knew just how good Halla had been, and he'd better tone it down. Maukurz wished desperately that he had somewhere more private to keep Halla. He left the cave and stood in the moonlight, his body steaming and his breath puffing out in little clouds. Footsteps in the snow followed him.

"Gotta talk to you," Narzum said, approaching carefully.

Maukurz knew it was coming. "Dagalur is going to try for her. Or someone else?"

"No, big brother... He's not thinking about your girl anymore. He's plotting something stupid, and I'm worried. You know how he gets, can't keep a secret for a fuck? Well he asked me what I thought of red haired women, if I had one before."

Maukurz spat. "Dagalur was out running today all right. Those boys I tangled with are what… twenty miles away? They range around too. I bet he's thinking of taking one of their women."

"You don't wanna tell Bai—"

"_Skai,_ no!" Maukurz hissed. "Rules are rules, and it's a good one, but it's my fault, bringing Halla around a bunch of Uruk-hai ain't sniffed a woman in months. And that one's a little soft in the head, you know that. Gonna hafta keep him close, and you follow him when he leaves the cave. Kick the shit out of him if needs be. But _don't_ let him take some woman, 'less we wanna get beheaded and staked in the mountains like those _snaga_ we saw last spring."

"We gotta live here," Narzum agreed.

"Exactly. I'd go… But shit, I can't leave _her_ alone in the cave either. Leaving her alone with everyone is like showin' a pile of meat to someone in Isengard's punishment cell and tellin' him he can't eat it. I'd kill anyone who touched her, but I can understand why they'd try it." Maukurz had a sudden, dizzying desire to mark Halla up more.

"She's _something_," Narzum murmured. "I don't mean to get yuh worked up but… I never knew they could be like that, when you fucked 'em. It's like she's asking for it, and never wanting yuh to stop. 'Course you… put your time into it, I guess. And I know about you, playing around with the breeders, but—"

"Ain't _nothin'_ like that," Maukurz said vehemently. Incredibly, that memory, which had always been good for a smile or more before, now made him feel ashamed and foolish. Cruel, even. And however good those fucks had seemed then, they were shit in comparison to Halla's sweet, willing body and embracing arms.

"That's what I'm sayin'! It's special," Narzum whispered fiercely. "I _never_ knew a white-skin could get hot. That's what's fuckin' with everyone, yuh know? Not just that she's nice lookin', or how long it's been since we raided a village. It's that… she _wants_ it! Dagalur…" Narzum looked over his shoulder, to the Uruk sleeping on his back on the bare cave earth. "He was askin' me if there was a way to _make_ a white-skin do that. Since he knows about you… and he thinks yuh might have shown me things like yuh did in the pits."

"Shit," Maukurz said, wishing Halla was swift and silent enough to shadow him, so that he could keep an eye on Dagalur himself. There was no doubt in Maukurz's mind that Dagalur would certainly rape, and likely steal, a female of Dunland.

"So…" Narzum said. "_Is_ there a way? What's your secret, Maukurz? So if I ever get a chance with one again…"

Maukurz sighed. "Look: I got lucky when she found me. I was fucked up and broken and weak, so I couldn't fuck her. I wanted to, _bad_… Especially when she touched me, sewing my guts back in and wrapping up my leg. But I couldn't, and she talked to me and helped me, and I… I wanted her to stay with me. I didn't want to scare her off—I couldn't, if I wanted to live—and so I kept my hands to myself. Until I knew she wanted me."

"She _told_ you?" Narzum gawked.

"I knew. It was her scent and her eyes, and the way she'd get all breathy and lost sometimes lookin' at me. I just _knew_, like I was supposed to recognize it, even though I couldn't believe it."

"So _then_ you fucked her," Narzum decided, grinning.

Maukurz grit his jaw. "You know little brother, if it was anyone but you saying that… But _no_, I didn't fuck her. I waited until it felt right and then I asked her if she was mine. I ain't gonna tell you the rest, but I was _careful._ You get what I'm sayin' here? You can break a white-skin, you can force her… But they hate that, it hurts them something terrible. They gotta _give_ themselves to you, and there ain't no sure way to make 'em want to."

Narzum sucked his teeth unhappily. "So it's never gonna happen, and you're the luckiest fucker in the world."

"I don't know what's gonna happen, Narzum. All I know's that if Dagalur rapes or steals some Dunlending, you won't get the chance to find out if there's a woman out there wants you." Maukurz lowered his voice even more and ordered, "Follow him. Don't fuck him up too bad, either. Just enough to teach him and warn him: we don't do that sort of shit anymore."

* * *

Edwyn stared at Finnan's hunting dogs thoughtfully. _It would really be the _right_ thing to do. I would be foolishly irresponsible to not find out where they are. Uruks within walking distance? Of Rohan? I should find out where they are, just to learn how many… and if there is a threat or not. But anyone else finding them will surely kill them all. Poor Halla, I hope you enjoy your happiness while it lasts._

_I wonder if I only delayed Halla's death. If they didn't think her a captive but a willing lover of the Uruk, what might soldiers do to her, when they kill him?_

Edwyn shook his head, as if to clear his mind of horrible thoughts. Halla made her choice. It was not Edwyn's duty or place to deny her; he surely wouldn't want anyone doing that to him. And absurdly, the sharp faced, sharp eyed Uruk who'd carried Halla off was a thousand times more affectionate to her than Finnan would ever be. It was surprising, and curious. Edwyn had no regrets about the War, no regrets looking back on the bodies of Orcs and Uruks he'd stacked and burned with his fellow Riders.

But what he was considering now… what he'd declared with his action… was that it may be that all Uruks didn't deserve instant death, now that the War was won. Maukurz forswore his Master, and put down his sword. No one in Birchleigh had been menaced, with Maukurz holed up somewhere close by. By his own words he'd named Halla precious, not to be harmed, and by his actions and her demeanor with him—easy and bright eyed—Edwyn believed him. Who had known the warriors of the Enemy had such sensibilities? And how had Maukurz come by them?

Finnan came out the door, his best cloak and breeches on, his boots polished. He was off to visit another border-lord, one who wanted to invest in building another mill for all the lumber they were both processing. "I'm sorry you can't come…" Finnan said, with a little tension. Edwyn hadn't been the same to him since the incident with Halla. Edwyn was supportive and outwardly forgiving, but Finnan saw a change in the younger man's behavior. As if the image of Finnan had been sullied in Edwyn's eyes, and Edwyn was showing his disapproval through a barely perceivable coolness. Finnan looked down. "There's no plausible reason I could think of to bring you along."

"Have a good time. Good boar hunting, to the north. Haldren has fine dogs, too."

Finnan was disappointed that Edwyn was so careless about being left behind. There was a time when he was touchy about such things, even knowing they had to be discrete. "I'm not going to tell Lord Haldren about Halla," Finnan said. "She might… She _must_ come back."

"What would you do to her, if she did?" Edwyn asked, knowing full well that Halla would _never_ return. She might leave the Uruk, but the woman he knew would never forgive Finnan for assaulting her.

"What choice do I have?" Finnan demanded anxiously. "It's that or tell the whole world that my _wife_ ran off! What am I to say to her family? They are not such unimportant peasants that they can be ignored! What of my invitation to present her to the king! What of my _mother?"_

Edwyn felt an icy contempt as Finnan rattled off his concerns. Of course he ought to be sympathetic: Finnan's problems were dreadful. But he'd never once expressed any worry for how _Halla_ was fairing. Edwyn had lied to Finnan: claiming he brought her as close as she would allow to her aunt and uncles, knowing Finnan wouldn't dare seek her there; he was more embarrassed than concerned how the young woman was managing! Now Edwyn saw, on top of that, that even though Halla's marriage had made her so unhappy that she'd entered into an affair—with an Uruk!—Finnan was still so thoughtless towards the her that he'd have her back in misery, to protect his own reputation.

"What about Halla?" Edwyn asked sharply. "You wouldn't want to kill her, knowing what she's done? Why should she come here, knowing she's not safe?"

Finnan closed his eyes, mortified. "It would be my right to kill her," he said. "As her husband, it would be my right! And who could blame me? D'you know how disgusting it is, to think that… that he took her _virginity? _That he was inside her, before I… And who knows how many times she let the beast at her, some filthy beast passing through the woods like those we killed with the Dunlendings? Then she comes to _my_ bed that way, with his stench and his…" Finnan sputtered off in fury, wondering how many times the Uruk had filled Halla's belly with his foul seed. Finnan realized that Edwyn was gawking at him, appalled.

"Any husband in my position _would_ kill her," Finnan said quickly. "Kill her without a second thought. But no, Edwyn… Even after all she's done, I would take her back, and I would not punish her further. So long as she swore never to do it again, I would take her back, and keep her filthy secret, to save my family the shame. She could keep her land, although the profits of High Meadow are mine…"

Edwyn stared at Finnan for a long moment. "You are right, Finnan. Peace time doesn't become you. You had better go on now. You've a long ride ahead of you."

Finnan slumped a little, as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"My brothers and I always return home for the anniversary of our father's birth," Edwyn said. Finnan looked so miserable that Edwyn sighed softly and said, "I'll send word for you. We can meet at our tavern, and talk some more then."

"You are so angry with me, for acting within the law and my marital rights?" Finnan asked, his hurt plain. "Aren't you the slightest bit disgusted with her? Finding some Uruk straggler on her daily ride and _rutting_ with him? A Man would be bad enough, but an Uruk! Have you forgotten you were once so horrified of them that you said you'd never be able to face your family again, after what you'd seen of them? Her own _maid_ was despoiled by Uruks, and Halla has seen how the villagers avoid Ailith for it! She knows how repulsive her actions are, and it doesn't stop her! How can you take her part over _mine?_"

"I don't take her part, Finnan!" Edwyn returned. "But neither can I side with the man who would strangle a sixteen year old girl to death for making a mistake! You speak of depravity, of despoiling. What's the difference between a woman who died at the hands of an Uruk, and one killed by her husband? Both are just as dead. And it is an unjust law that would grant you the right to end Halla's life! That is not what I fought to uphold. You own words: we are fighting to preserve that which is just and fair, kind and good in the world from the forces of cruelty, destruction, and darkness. Yet you would _murder_ that silly, beautiful, _unloved_ child for seeking affection?"

Finnan couldn't respond. He worked his jaw a little, angry and flustered, and full of the uncomfortable feeling that Edwyn was in the right, and Finnan was not a good Man and a warrior of light, but something no better than the Orcs he killed. "I must depart," Finnan said tightly, walking past Edwyn without turning back. Ailen brought his readied horse from the stable when he saw Lord Birchleigh approaching.

Edwyn watched Finnan ride off. Then he whistled to the two dogs. He rose from the steps and walked to the barn himself, the wolfhounds trotting easily behind him, tongues lolling. It was likely that Maukurz would move on with Halla after he met with her this afternoon, as they said they would do. But it was equally likely, more likely actually, that Maukurz had made a home for himself nearby. Edwyn knew he could never get too close without being detected by the sharp-sensed Uruks, but he wanted to know the direction they went in, at least for now.

As he passed the kitchen, Ailith, who was making meat pies, poked her head out the door. The tall blond woman hurried to Edwyn's side, curtseyed properly, then said, "I can't stop thinking about her, my lord. You are going to see her now?"

Edwyn kept walking. "If she shows up. He could have taken her away already."

"I've not slept since she left, Lord Edwyn. I know I am only a servant and it's not my place, but to me, you've both… You've done very wrong, and I can't keep my mouth shut. I am afraid for her."

Edwyn gazed softly on Ailith. She as a tall, fine looking woman, but her features seemed perpetually cast in guarded discomfort. He had heard the gossip about her: raped by three Uruks in a raid, bitten up bloody, and left half-dead and pregnant. No one knew what had happened to the pregnancy. No one wanted to know.

"She's already pregnant, Ailith," Edwyn said as tenderly as he could. "Didn't you hear? And she's bound and determined to go through with it. As wrong as it seems to us, she's likely best off with him. He's the only one who won't be mortally offended by her condition, do you see?"

"I see. But she'll never make it," Ailith said quietly. "Even if…" She dug her nails into her palms and pushed out the words: "If he treats her well… She won't get through labor alone, without any women. She has no idea what she's in for. She'll be weak already, and the—the spawn—doesn't come easy. She _cannot_ give birth in the mountains, with only an Uruk to help her! She _needs_ a midwife. I would have died without."

Edwyn frowned. He'd not even _thought_ of that. "Sweet Bema, what will she do?"

"_Talk_ to her, my lord, please. Make her understand!"

"I'll do my best, Ailith. But she is… quite set on staying with him."

"Let me get some more of her things together. I cannot imagine how she'll live in the wild. She was quite meticulous in her personal habits."

Edwyn smiled. "That would be right decent of you, Mistress Ailith."

Edwyn left not much longer, with a bag full of a good amount of soap, skin cream, and a flask full of the lavender oil rinse that Halla liked so much Ailith prepared it in advance. Ailith saw that Halla had taken her sewing needles, so Ailith added Halla's short dagger, a pair of boots, winter stockings, her kid gloves, and a good brush and comb. From the kitchen, Ailith included a small sack full of sweet, chewy dried apples. _Herbs_, Ailith thought. Ailith and Blythe hung fresh herbs in the kitchen; she reached up and broke off some of each: thyme, rosemary, mint, and parsley. She gave Halla a few bulbs of garlic and two onions, wondering if Halla could find a way to plant the bulbs for next spring. She included a small sack of meat rub and a pot of honey as well. It was no comfort for Ailith, but at least Halla would be a little better provisioned.

Edwyn brought the wolfhounds to the edge of the forest, leaving them with the master carpenter Harlan. "Look out for them for a little while, will you Harlan?" Edwyn asked, ruffling the heads of the huge, thigh-high dogs.

"Certainly, my lord," Harlan replied courteously.

Edwyn he mounted his horse, and trotted out to see if Halla would truly come to meet him.

* * *

Edwyn sat in the saddle, one hand on his hip as he saw Maukurz approaching through the forest, his stride bold and long. Finnan was a tall Man, but Maukurz was a little taller still, and outweighed Finnan with at least eighty pounds of muscle. Golden eyes glowed in a face of hard, angular features, high cheekbones, and a smooth, sharp jawline. From a distance—when his grey skin was made into ambiguous darkness—the Uruk looked like an extremely well-built Southerner or Easterling: an incredibly handsome one at that. Most noticeable of all though, though was the fact that Halla was on his back, her arms loose around his neck and her slim, bare legs wrapped around his naked hips. When they reached the trail Maukurz squatted down, his shapely legs flexing, his breechclout swaying suggestively between his legs. Edwyn forced himself to look away.

Halla climbed off Maukurz's back. She was smiling brightly. She took the Uruk's hand in hers. Edwyn was amazed that this was the same girl he'd helped escape two days ago, terrorized and sobbing.

"You look better," Edwyn confirmed, looking briefly to Maukurz and nodding his head. "Much better."

"Maukurz says the bruises are going away," Halla said softly.

Maukurz caught Edwyn's eye now, and Edwyn understood. "Yes they are fading, darling," he said, even though her cheek was actually a darker shade of plum now, and the rope around her throat was glaring and horrific. Edwyn was even more beguiled by Maukurz's lie. It was the sort of thing a gentleman would do, and though Edwyn knew Maukurz was far from even a good man, Edwyn appreciated his lie all the same.

"You satisfied by what you see, _r__ủ__k-goth?"_

"I need to talk to her," Edwyn said. "First, this overpacked satchel is from Ailith."

Halla took the brown leather satchel eagerly. "Oh, my soaps! And my hair rinse, and comb set! And some ribbons! Oh, Edwyn, tell Ailith she's wonderful!" Halla gave a rich smile to Maukurz and said, "And there are herbs and spices, too! We can season the meat now, and it will be delicious, especially the smoked meat. And I'll find a way to make stew…"

"Halla, Ailith wanted me to talk to you about something important." Edwyn glanced reluctantly to Maukurz. "About your… your pregnancy."

Edwyn was alarmed to hear a low growl from Maukurz; the Uruk's golden eyes flashed. Maukurz could _tolerate _the curiosity of his brothers and Baiurz, barely; he didn't want this Man thinking about Halla that way at all, let alone talking to her about her body and Baby.

"Shh, Maukurz," Halla murmured. "It's all right, Edwyn doesn't mean any harm. It's probably something to help, in fact! What did Ailith want me to know?"

Edwyn kept a wary eye on the Uruk. "She wanted to know if you'd thought about having some help having your baby. She says you'll need women with you."

Halla paled slightly. "Would _she_ be willing to help me? Because… I can't think of anyone else…" Halla felt Maukurz's hand tighten in hers, and he stiffened uncomfortably at her suggestion. "I cannot imagine other way_…_"

"I _don't_ think so," Edwyn replied. He had no idea of Maukurz's connection to Ailith. He searched for a discrete way to phrase the urgent message. "Even if she would not come, she was quite concerned for you. She said it was very difficult, more so than a…customary birth."

Halla was visibly afraid now. Smelling her fear, Maukurz stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, glaring at Edwyn as if to warn him away from upsetting her more. Maukurz oppressed the sudden chill he felt at Edwyn's words as well.

"She made it," Halla insisted, holding her lover's strong arms around her. "She lived."

"She had help," Edwyn reminded her. "That's my point. Just… think about it Halla. You have plenty of time."

Edwyn watched as the Uruk comforted her. He rubbed his hands softly along her upper arms, he encouraged her to turn into his hard, whip-scarred chest. Edwyn found himself wondering who had whipped Maukurz in such a brutal, painful place. The Uruk bent his head down, his thick black hair falling forward as he murmured something in Halla's ear. For a strange moment, Edwyn longed to watch them for the rest of the day; he was amazed by their relationship, which flew right in the face of all he'd been taught.

"_Maybe we can pay some woman from Dunland, _ashgaz_. They know of us, and they are greedy for coin. Don't worry, Halla-mine. I'ma get you through this, and Baby too._"

Halla slipped her arms around Maukurz's waist. He cupped his hand around her hair and held her head against his chest. "Thank you, Edwyn," Halla said, eyes closed as she listened to Maukurz's quick, steady heartbeat.

"She's gotta eat," Maukurz told Edwyn pointedly.

"Be careful, Maukurz," Edwyn replied. When Maukurz narrowed his eyes and cocked his head like a wolf listening to the wind, Edwyn explained, "Halla loves you and you're the father of her child. You care for her, you make her heart glad. Most importantly, you don't do harm to my people. I... I suppose I have no quarrel with you, now that the War is ended. But if you are lingering nearby, know that others of my kind won't be so sympathetic to your plight. In fact, most would wish you more harm, if they saw you holding Halla as you are now."

"I can take care of myself, _r__ủ__k-goth_," Maukurz said, wishing Edwyn would shut his mouth with all of his doom and warnings. He didn't want Halla upset in any way. "But like Halla, I thank you for all your help. Especially for bringing her… her hair things, right _ashgaz?"_

Halla grinned at Maukurz. "Yes, love, especially that."

"You see all these things she teaches me about?" Maukurz asked Edwyn, so happy with Halla he forgot, for just a moment, that he had been created to be Edwyn's mortal enemy.

"I see," Edwyn said slowly. As he rode south that day, all the way to his father's estate, Edwyn couldn't get the imagine out of his mind of Maukurz and Halla walking away hand in hand, laughing in the swirling autumn leaves.

* * *

_This idiot! He's really going to do it!_

Dagalur was so single-minded he didn't notice Narzum creeping behind him. They were deep into Dunland, spying on the deep, small reservoir made by a beaver dam in a mountain stream. The women of the Dunlendings came to the pond to water, in groups or singly, toting children and alone, to gather their water. For a moment the rich medly of female scents—especially after the torture that was their captain fucking his girl several times a day in their presence—nearly knocked both Uruks off their feet. Narzum usually would do anything to avoid being so close to such a tempting array of white-skins; he couldn't _take_ one, so why torture himself?

Narzum could barely see Dagalur where he lay on his belly like a snake, stalking the women. Waiting for his red-hairred girl to arrive. Narzum himself crept closer, painstakingly closer, grateful for the wind that was blowing _sharlob_ mixed with Dagalur's potent, aroused musk into Narzum's face: a dizzying combination.

They lay so long Narzum thought maybe Dagalur would accept defeat and slither away. But then, as twilight came, a sweet-smelling female with bright hair the color of a red fox's pelt emerged from the woods and knelt slowly by the water. Narzum saw Dagalur switch positions, pushing up on his palms and the balls of his feet, getting ready to spring and run. Narzum had no choice. He rose out of the pushes, dashed forward in silence, and jumped on top of Dagalur.

"What the _fuck!?_" Dagalur hissed, snarling.

"Stay down!" Narzum breathed fiercely in Dagalur's ears. "You ain't takin' her!"

Dagalur growled angrily, throwing his body up and over, tossing Narzum off his back. He lunged over to grab Narzum, but the lankier Uruk was the better fighter. Narzum rolled out of the way, and Dagalur, fell on his face. Narzum got on top of Dagalur again, and for a moment the Uruks brawled fiercely, fists flying.

A Man's shout startled both of them. Narzum released Dagalur, who for all of Narzum's aggression had only some lumps and bruises, a tear on his shoulder and a bloody noise. Both of them looked up eagerly. Behind the woman, a heavily bearded bear of a man came stomping out of the woods. He didn't have any idea of the Uruks nearby. He took a fistful of the woman's red hair and pulled her to her feet, delivering a stinging slap across her face. The woman bowed her head in submission as the Man pointed to the darkening sky and shouted at the woman some more, before dragging her off, leaving the water pot behind.

When they were gone Narzum hissed, "You half-wit! You're gonna get us all killed!"

Furious, Dagalur lunged for Narzum again, and Narzum had no choice but to thrash the other Uruk thoroughly. Finally Narzum pinned him down, demanding, "You had enough? You done yet? Or you wanna keep fighting till all those Men come over her and put an end to us?"

"Fuck you, Narzum!" Dagalur growled, spitting black blood. "Who are you to say what I do?"

"It's Baiurz's rule! And if you get Dunland on us, I die just the same as you!"

Dagalur panted hard, too defeated to keep fighting, especially when there was nothing to win. "It ain't… _fair_," he hissed. "I gotta smell fine cunt day and night, and can't get none of it! Where's the harm in the Captain lettin' us get a round or two? Ain't that how we always did it before?"

"She isn't _plunder!_" Narzum growled. "She's like his _breeder_, but more! They're gonna stay together and make lots of whelps together!"

"She's _already_ whelped. So no harm in us fucking her now! Why we gotta suffer? Why we can't have our turn?"

Narzum grabbed Dagalur by the shoulders, shaking him. "You dumb fuck, you goin' crazy for some pussy? Captain _ain't_ sharing and Commander Baiurz backs him up! You don't like it, get the fuck out of the cave! 'Cause she's our future, see? _She_ don't wanna be passed around! _She_ only wants Maukurz. But both of the officers think there's more women out there that might wanna have _our_ whelps. So stop thinking so much with your cock, all right? And maybe one day you'll get your own breeder!"

Dagalur hissed angrily, pushing Narzum off him. "All right," he agreed reluctantly, because he was whipped rather than out of confidence in Narzum's promise. Dagalur inhaled through his bloody nose, trying to smell the redhead on the wind again. There was nothing of her left. Groaning and grumbling about his injuries, Dagalur followed Narzum back to the cave.

"What happened to you?" Baiurz demanded when he saw the brown skinned Uruk.

"I fell," Dagalur muttered, dropping down against the wall. Behind the white sheet, Dagalur heard soft, sweet sounding laughter—a sound he'd never heard white-skins make before Halla came. He heard Maukurz's purring growl; he heard the Captain's smooth, murmuring voice, no doubt coaxing the girl into some new type of fucking. And then, slowly, that good smell came back, like yet another flower blossoming on from an endless tree, damp with dew. It just wasn't fair.


	25. Chapter 25

Maukurz lay Halla down gently, pulling the fur blanket she'd sewn together up over their naked bodies. He studied her beautiful face in the soft glow of the candles she had made for them, tracing his finger lightly over the full, berry pink lips that always looked flushed and lightly bitten after he'd had her.

"Will you ever run out of ways to make love?" Halla asked, smiling. She touched his finger playfully with the tip of her tongue, then grazed it with her teeth.

Maukurz shook his head slowly. "I've been waiting a _long_ time for you, little girl. Got nothin' but time for you now."

Two weeks had passed. Maukurz had never known he could feel such happiness, thrilling and peaceful at once. By day, Halla usually made candles or practiced her sewing. They now slept on a soft blanket of furs, and had one to cover them as well. She'd sewn a collection of everyone's hides together to cover the mouth of the cave against the night's cold. Halla was slowly putting together a buckskin tunic for Maukurz, which she planned to line with fur to keep him warm in the winter. Halla hadn't done such physical work in a while, and it made her glad.

Maukurz spent his time hunting: he'd learned, gratefully, that it was safe to let Halla remain with Bauirz sometimes, as the Commander's leg was healing. The old warrior was almost as eager to protect Halla as Maukurz himself was, and Halla revealed a surprising ability to indulge the Commander in his one weakness: talking continuously of his feats of strength in battles and fights long past. Halla's patience in this respect made Maukurz wonder if it wasn't something Halla might have done in her old life, listening to some old Rider revisiting his glory while she sewed by the fire.

Fortunately, Dagalur had wisely submitted to Maukurz and Narzum both. All three of the younger Uruks made it all too plain that Dagalur's moment of weakness had knocked him to the bottom of the ladder. They were no longer in Isengard, but Dagalur was certainly fair game to get anyone a drink of water, a cut of meat, or whatever _else_ was desired. With their cave slowly warming and glowing with light, and their store of smoked meat for the winter piling up, _all _of the Uruks wanted Halla to stay. Even Dagalur—who, with the help of the general bullying of the community, realized he'd acted like an idiot—wanted to keep the white-skin girl around. And not just for smelling.

It was only the middle of the night, and Maukurz needed very little sleep. Again, Narzum was playing his drum, softly, the sort of drumming that would enhance rest rather than disturb it. Maukurz hardly wanted rest. He couldn't keep his hands, or his mouth, off Halla's body. More and more, he'd been dangerously surrendering to the desire to touch his teeth to her flesh, pushing and nipping it softly, and Halla always got very still when he did. He pulled the blankets back again—always wanting a visual feast—and slipped down her belly to taste her. Halla sighed and stretched out, cat-like, and Maukurz enjoyed her for a long moment. He loved to make her little body tremble and jump, he loved to hear her soft cries; he loved the very taste of her. But more and more, his attention was caught by the smooth bit of skin on her upper, inner thigh, so soft against his hard cheek.

"Wanna mark you here…" Maukurz whispered, turning his head and brushing his lips against the warm spot.

_Such _an intimate place, Halla thought, shivering from his kisses. Even if she did have to come and go in the world one day, who would see such a mark? Halla belonged to Maukurz, body and soul. It wouldn't occur to her to think of another lover, or of a day she wasn't with the Uruk. But still… though his bite _had_ felt good after the initial shock and pain, it had still hurt first, and most, being sore for over a week at least afterwards. Yet those few moments were _sweet_, in some deep gut way that made all of Halla's body…thirsty for passion, aching for touch. As Halla thought, Maukurz flicked his tongue over her secrets in slow, rhythmic circles, his hands grasping her hips. Of _course_ he'd make it delicious. Halla understood that Maukurz had done things to her that could have hurt her terribly had he not taken the time to do it just _right_, igniting her with pleasure, and keeping her safe as well. _"Yes…_" she breathed. "Do it. Do it."

Halla was glad it was so late, and all but Narzum asleep: her cry was high and sharp. Narzum broke stride in his drumming for a moment. Maukurz closed his eyes, but his unused hand found hers and he laced his fingers around hers, pressing their palms together. Halla felt washed away, drifting apart from the world on the vivid contrasting sensations of his teeth in her thigh, then his warm mouth covering the gushing wound, and his clever careful fingers inside her. His hand held hers tightly, as if to keep her earthbound. Shaken and thrilled to her very soul, hazy with bliss, Halla opened her eyes to the wild sight of wolf-eyed Maukurz rising over her, wiping her blood from his mouth, licking it from his wet fingers. He nudged her thighs apart wider with his knee and crept over her body, pushing roughly inside her as his lips fell to her mouth.

* * *

In the morning, like gluttons, they made love again, this time hiding deep down in their blankets. Halla discovered that Maukurz's fresh mark made her blood rush to that part of her body, to heal it, intensifying all the pleasure she'd ordinarily feel. Afterwards, her sultry, heavily lidded eyes watched Maukurz dress—it was colder now, and he wore his black army kilt and tunic, cut attractively over the hard muscles of his lower thighs.

"What you doin' today?" he asked, loving how her eyes were drinking him in.

"Working on your clothes," she said, almost purring herself with delight. "Helping you butcher whatever you kill properly, to get the fat and the tendons and the meat to smoke."

Maukurz nodded. "Wanna walk with me for a little while, see if we can find some game together? I'm not nearly ready to be away from you."

Halla smiled brightly. "I'll dress warmly, in case it's still snowing."

Halla's bow wasn't ready yet. Because Maukurz would hunt for her, Halla's weapon was of the least importance to the group. Only Dagalur needed a bow still, but Shatauz worked on it whenever he wasn't hunting or fiddling with deer parts, curious about what other helpful things might be made from them. In return for the candles she made for all the Uruks, both Shatauz and Narzum had given things to Maukurz, for Halla. Shatauz made Halla a large ball of strong deer-gut string, Narzum—perceptive Narzum—gave Halla a circle of wood as wide as her foot, to serve as a plate.

Halla and Maukurz walked together, and Narzum and Dagalur went off in a pair as well. Though they started in different directions, the Uruks followed the same game trail, and before the morning had passed, Maukurz heard the faint sounds of Narzum and Dagalur arguing. "Come on," Maukurz said, taking Halla's hand. She followed fleetly behind him as he ran up on the two quarreling Uruks, and then gasped in shock as she saw what they were fighting over.

A red haired woman lay on the snowy ground, clinging to life if she was alive at all. Blood was all over her face. Blood matted her hair.

"Just tell me—" Maukurz groaned.

"_Nar,_ he didn't do it," Narzum said, "But he wants to keep her."

"You lost your mind again?" Maukurz snapped to Dagalur, though he was deeply relieved that Dagalur hadn't done the damage.

"Not keep her like you think!" Dagalur protested. "I saw her Man hitting her, he probably did this. He don't want her. Why can't I help her get better, and see if she'll be _my_ girl?"

"Maukurz," Halla said quietly, "If she's got any life in her at all, she won't live for long if we leave her here."

"If we take her back to the cave—forget what _Baiurz_ will do!—what happens when she wakes up and realizes where she is? When she starts screaming in terror?" Maukurz asked. "Dunland boys kept their women away from us, but she'll know what we are."

"I asked him what we'd do," Narzum said incredulously. "Know what he said? He'd knock her in the head again and bring her back, and she'd think us all a bad dream."

"_Flagit_," Maukurz hissed, shaking his head at Dagalur.

The woman moaned weakly, and Halla broke away from Maukurz, hurrying to kneel by the woman's side. Halla gingerly lifted some of the blood-soaked hair from the woman's face, revealing the unmistakable bursting of skin from a hard fist. "Oh she's hurt bad…" Halla breathed, looking over her shoulder at Maukurz.

"Not our problem…" Narzum suggested, palms in the air. "We don't need to get hunted down for her back luck."

Halla clucked her tongue softly, a quiet voicing of her disapproval.

"What if she wakes up to your girl taking care of her, Cap'n?" Dagalur asked. "Would she still be terrorized?"

Maukurz grit his jaw, annoyed that such a dilemma would ruin his peaceful time with Halla. It was even worse that his decision would seem hard hearted, both towards the woman and to Dagalur.

"You think she'll be scared?" Narzum asked Halla, careful not to look her in the face over-much.

"Yes," Halla said. "But if she's well treated, and free to leave, she ought to be grateful."

"He don't want her to leave," Maukurz said pointedly. "And if she ran off and betrayed us, we'd be finished."

Narzum nodded in agreement. "Dagalur, you really wanna risk your life—all of our lives—for some _migaz?_ Ain't been _so_ bad since the War ended, has it?"

Dagalur gnashed his teeth in frustration, thinking about his aching balls. Thinking about how it was fine to play with Narzum, or take himself in hand, but he wanted hot wet _cunt_.

Then he thought about the bodies of the Orcs he'd seen ripped apart in Dunland last spring. "Ahh, _fuck._ No, it ain't worth it."

"We _can't_ just leave her to die," Halla said again, now that the tenion between the Uruks had seemed to pass. Halla wondered sickly if the Man who Dagalur saw slapping her had done this to her. "I wish we could help her!"

"We can't, _ashgaz_," Maukurz told her softly. "You came to me willingly. We can't risk the group bringing someone who might not wanna come. That was our rule before I ever met you."

"So how are we _ever_ supposed to get girls?" Dagalur asked petulantly. "We can't all have them walk up to us!"

"I don't know yet," Maukurz said. "But not like this. But... damn. Clean her up if you can with Narzum, then leave her closer to her people. Hopefully they find her. We can't do no more for her, without riskin' ourselves."

Dagalur bit his tongue, swearing under his breath. He had followed Maukurz up until they had their faces beaten in at the Fords, when he and Narzum had been injured, and Maukurz had gone on to Helm's Deep. Dagalur had never questioned the stronger Uruk before, but here he was _sure_ Maukurz was wrong. Easy for him, having that sweet warm thing pressed up against him every night! If Halla hadn't been there, Dagalur was sure Maukurz's reaction would have been different. He would have wanted the woman _himself._

Dagalur didn't dare go against Maukurz openly, but as he picked the woman up, inhaling her bloody-sweet smell deeply, he knew he'd have to take his desire into his own hands. And it wasn't just fucking he wanted. Why shouldn't he have whelps too now? Or was this still to be Isengard, where only the officers got the privilege? Didn't they _need_ as many whelps as they could get? No, Maukurz and Narzum weren't thinking right at all.

Maukurz took Halla's hand and led her away. She walked in silence for a while, worrying for the woman.

"You aren't happy," Maukurz murmured. "I did what was best for all of us.

"I know. You are their Captain, you must think that way." Halla looked up to Maukurz with wide eyes. "But what if he kills her next time?"

"Dagalur? He's hot-headed, but he wants her alive, believe me!"

"No," Halla breathed. "Her husband. The Dunland Man who beat her. What if she tried to escape him, and Dagalur and Narzum are bringing her back for more?"

"Sweet Halla," Maukurz said. "What do you think she'd do, waking up with Uruk-hai all around her? As soon as she could run, she would, and we'll be done for. Including you and Baby."

"I know, I understand the danger," Halla replied. "But… _I_ didn't want to run! And Dagalur isn't so bad," Halla offered. "Maybe she'd welcome his interest, over that of the Man who beats her!"

"You are a rare woman, _ashgaz,_" Maukurz said, wrapping his arm around her hips. "And I am very lucky. It's likely the Dunland female would do as the others do. And you can't blame her. She would fear we'd harm her, and if we were another group, or even at a different time, before you, we likely would have."

"But you didn't hurt _me,_" Halla told him softly, feeling the sore bruise forming on her thigh. She pressed her lips into a mischievous smile. "Not in a bad way, I mean. And I fell in _love_ with you, Maukurz."

_You didn't see all of me,_ Maukurz thought, sighing, feeling her small hand in his. _And you didn't listen to those who had._ But instead of telling her this, Maukurz stopped and drew Halla into his arms, kissing her deeply. Maukurz could get sick thinking too much of what he might have done to her. "I'm glad I met you how I did, my Halla."

* * *

The rain over High Meadow had an icy bite to it. Ailith stood before her tavern, which was near to complete thanks to Harlan's fine work and the laborers Halla's donation had allowed her to afford. Soon she would be ready to get her oven going and take customers all day. But even as that exciting moment came, Ailith was melancholy, staring as far as she could up the mountains before the cloud and snow cover took over.

_She's been gone almost three weeks. Who knows where—or how—she is? It was foolish to let her go at all!_

But Ailith had to admit, there would be no place for Halla in Rohan once she gave birth. If she even survived it.

Ailith hated to think about Halla, no matter how she was compelled to do it, like a wound that just begged to be picked at. She tried to concentrate on her concern for the girl—who obviously had no idea of what was before her—and not think of the baby. But every time she imagined Halla pregnant with _his_ spawn, she thought of her own hands, holding the little grey female down in her washwater. Ailith pretended she hadn't seen the little arms and legs flailing desperately, the slanted green eyes wide beneath the thrashed up surface of the water. Ailith had turned away from the child, sobbing and forcing it under until the soft, heavy small body went still. All Ailith had felt then was relief. She didn't know the shame of the thing would follow her from town to town for the rest of her life. Always, someone hearing from a cousin or employer, until Ailith learned the best thing to do was come right out and admit it herself. She'd gotten numb to it after a while: it was her life, it was her story, the pain of it dulled by repetitious telling. Until Halla had torn all that open again, without even meaning to.

And Halla wanted the baby.

"Beautiful sight, isn't it?"

Ailith startled out of her thoughts, her heart beating hard. "Harlan…" she said, trying to keep a steady voice. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"Forgive me," the carpenter said. For all his size and strength, he was gentle and graceful. "But I wanted to speak with you."

"Are the ovens ready?" Ailith asked.

"No," Harlan said, smiling slightly. "The masons have not yet finished."

"But we will be ready by slaughter-time? I've a recipe for ribs that should bring in many customers."

"We'll surely be ready by the blood moon. Perhaps two weeks before. We're almost set to plaster the walls. But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about, Ailith. I've though and thought over the perfect place to say this, and I can find no better than where we are right now: on the threshold of your tavern, that you've put so much love and work into creating."

Ailith turned to Harlan, frowning. "Is something wrong with my building?"

He laughed softly at Ailith's single-mindedness, knowing how devoted she was to her new business now that her mistress had gone away visiting relations. "Nothing is wrong with it," Harlan said. "Ailith… I'm a plain spoken Man, so I'd best come out and say it."

Ailith felt frozen, as if the rain had turned to ice and coated her entirely. She knew in her guts what he would say. Yet another thing she'd tried to deny, even as every part of her shouted it.

"Ailith… I'm in love with you. Will you marry me?"

The rain began to fall harder, and Harlan would have drawn Ailith beneath the overhang, but her tense, closed posture prevented him. Ailith closed her eyes to the rain, hoping that her tears might go unnoticed. Was there a time when she wanted marriage? As a young maiden, arranging her sister's bridal gown, or awed over the contents of her mother's hope chest, full of wedding gifts from her grandparents. But all of that had come to an end on an early spring day nearly two years ago.

She'd never talked to Harlan about it. "Surely you know," Ailith said in the little pinched voice that she hated.

"I know a lot of things about you, Mistress Ailith. You're a hard worker, and fair to your laborers. You have dreams, and you're not afraid to go after them. Women like you are precious few these days. And you are beautiful, Ailith. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But you know about what happened to me," Ailith returned, merciless to herself.

"Yes," Harlan said, unafraid to keep her gaze. "And you know that I lost my wife and our unborn child. But I'm ready to build a new life, if you would say yes."

Ailith tried to deny him outright, but her voice caught in her throat. She could only shake her head. When she finally found her voice, she willed it to be hard, like a door shutting in Harlan's face. She hated herself for hearing the quiver as she said, "I couldn't. You… you are a wonderful Man, Harlan, gentle and handsome and passionate about what you do… You deserve someone better than me…"

"Ailith, no one is better for me than you! I only want you. Can you not give me a chance? I swear to you, you'd be the only lady of my heart. The first and last thought of my mind each day would be your happiness. You'd live just as you wish, work at the tavern or stay at home with our children… I have means, Ailith, I would build you a fine stone house…"

"_Stop…_" Ailith gasped. "I couldn't imagine it! Marriage, children! How could I ever, after what was done to me? You wouldn't say you wanted me if you saw me! If you saw what they did to me, the scars they left on me, for all to know— Just— Please! Let us never speak of this again!"

Ailith spun on her heel, fleeing into the near-ready tavern, praying to Bema that he would not follow her. She needn't have worried: Harlan stood still in the rain stunned that the woman he loved could be so hard to them both. He closed his eyes and turned away, pulling his brown hood over his long blond braid. Harlan roamed the new muddy street as he wondered if he'd ever be able to reach her, or if he'd not only been rejected as a husband, but lost himself her friendship as well.


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's Note: My apologies to those of you who received updates this weekend without being able to access the story. FFN was having an issue with—as far as I know—a bunch of stories. Hopefully this has been/will be resolved shortly._

* * *

At exactly eight weeks into her pregnancy, Halla woke up so sick she couldn't make it out of bed before she was retching violently, shamefully, on the cave floor. As soon as there was a lull in the churning of her belly, and she could catch her breath, Maukurz dropped the blanket over Halla's naked shoulders and bundled her into his arms. There was near a foot of snow from a heavy storm two days earlier, but Maukurz, careless of the cold, sat down and held her in his lap.

Halla had barely managed to apologize before she twisted around in his grasp, sick again. By now all the Uruks in the cave, each interested in both Halla and Baby's survival, crowded to the cave mouth and pushed back the flap without any concept of privacy at all.

"She all right?" Dagalur asked, while Narzum wondered aloud what he could get for her. Shatauz, who during the War often over-indulged in the thick burning Orc draught called _akrum_, retrieved Maukurz's helmet full of melted snow and brought it to his captain.

"Little sips," Shatauz told Maukurz, passing him the helmet of cool water.

Halla tried to drink, but it was a long while before she could hold anything down. Still, the water at least kept her stomach from tearing itself apart any more than it already had. "Please _move_ me," Halla gasped, smelling her own bile, feeling six pairs of eyes on her in various shades of yellow and green. Maukurz stood and carried Halla towards the pine trees, and she murmured, "They shouldn't be _staring_ at me. I'm disgusting right now."

"Aww lil girl, they're just worried about you and Baby. You're like… the best magic they've ever seen, having this baby, smiling like you do about it. We'd all look like some _loburzu_ pretty ladies, the way we feel all sweet about it. And you're the farthest thing from disgusting. But don't worry, I'll tell them to back off you when you get sick."

"I've never felt so _bad_," Halla said quietly, laying her head on Maukurz's chest and closing her eyes. "This is normal? I mean… you did see it… The women who were pregnant… in the pits... You told Shatauz those women threw up when the babies grew."

Maukurz hated speaking of it, especially with her. "None of us saw past a few weeks, Halla_._ But you're strong, you seem well. You've got pretty color still, I know that's… considered a good sign."

Halla nodded, her voice a little stronger with the clean cold wind in her face. "Women get sick with Men's children too. Sometimes. Though I never saw it, because my aunt—that's my mother's sister—was finished having children by the time I went to live with her, and my boy cousins—her children—weren't married yet. But I've heard you can get very sick, and it's perfectly fine."

"Baby's just getting stronger," Maukurz murmured hopefully, resting his chin softly on her head.

"I want to do your hair," Halla said. "So I can practice for Baby. I want to do his hair in braids and keep it neat."

"Baby's a he now?" Maukurz asked, grinning.

"I think so," Halla replied, closing her eyes again.

"You ready to go back in? You need some clothes on, _ashgaz._ Then you can fuss with my hair for a while."

"The fresh air feels so good," Halla said. "But I'll try."

Once in the cave, Maukurz noticed that someone—likely Dagalur—had cleaned the puke away, and done a thorough job of it. He settled Halla back on their bed, and tucked the blanket around her. He brought over a comb, and the treasured lavender oil she asked him to grab.

"Gonna make me smell pretty?" Maukurz laughed.

"It's good for your hair," Halla said. Maukurz was startled by the expert feel of her hands in his long, thick black mane. She tugged the comb through it from the bottom up, loosening all the snags and tangles.

"I surrender," Maukurz murmured as Halla rubbed a few drops of the soothing oil into his scalp. The scent of lavender, so intimately connected with Halla's hair and body, was a potent aphrodisiac for Maukurz. He closed his eyes and tried to keep calm, knowing that Halla needed to rest now, not fuck.

Maukurz growled softly in pleasure as Halla's hands slipped under his hair, which felt rare smooth and light, and began to rub his well-muscled shoulders. As good as it felt, Maukurz leaned away from Halla after a few moments. Sometimes it was almost impossible for Maukurz to keep off of her, even if it was what was good for her. He knew he could fuck a whole lot more than she could, and still not be content. Maukurz turned around to kiss her, meaning to say goodbye, he had to hunt, but unsure if he'd be able to leave once his mouth touched hers.

But then when he turned, he saw that her color wasn't high and glossy and warm; Halla was pale, and there was some bruised darkness growing under her eyes. Maukurz took her face in his hands. "I'm going to get you some nice meat, _ashgaz._" At the same time, he wondered if she didn't need other things. Even he missed bread and gruel sometimes. He kissed her lips softly. "You rest. Baiurz will look out for you. Everyone else is hunting. I'll be back before long."

"I can work on my sewing," Halla suggested.

"Just _rest_," Maukurz implored her quietly. "You're doing enough as it is."

* * *

Halla had been right; hunting was a great relief for Maukurz. He enjoyed the stalking, the chasing, the smell of blood on the cold air… all the subtle differences between one day's kill and the next. It was good for all of the Uruks to have an outlet for their inborn skills. It worked on them in a strange way, putting those skills to use for a positive reason. Maukurz knew Halla preferred venison to mountain goat—and certainly over a predator's meat—so he lurked mostly around the abundant herds of red deer. He also had learned he liked to stalk alone, without having to worry about other Uruk-hai. Favored by Saruman, Maukurz had climbed the ranks—both formal and informal—almost from the moment he was moved to the bullpen, dripping with the blood of Orcs and white-skins from his first day alive. Other Uruks had gathered to him, and he was made responsible for their victory and failure immediately. Maukurz wasn't sure he'd had so much as an hour alone in his life before he broke his leg. He hadn't liked it then; but he discovered that being back in top form and armed was another thing entirely.

Hunting alone… Maukurz could forget himself. He could be with the wind, with the animals, who didn't give a fuck for who he was or what he'd done. The joy of battle was crazed and loud; a victorious hunt felt like a good long run, or in the afterglow of what Halla called making love: satisfying and quiet and coolly confident. He could hear himself think; or he could just hear himself breathing, falling into the rhythm of life around him.

Maukurz sat down beside his kill, a two year old buck. He took the knife Shatauz had made for him and made a small slit in the buck's belly. He pulled out the steaming heart and bit into its quivering bloody mass. He almost ate the raw liver, until he thought that the rich organ meat would be best fed to Halla. And it would be better, Maukurz thought, to get it into her belly raw and bloody. It seeemed to him like cooking it would burn not only the blood off, but some unknown vital essence as well, and Maukurz figured Halla needed everything he did and more growing his whelp.

Maukurz took a swig from his old Isengard canteen, grinning as he tried to imagine a smaller version of himself shadowing his steps. He'd teach Baby to shoot straight as soon as he could, how to wrestle and fight and stalk prey against the wind. Maukurz tried to imagine the sizes of the children of Men he had seen, then decided that was no help, since there was no way to know how like Baby the children of Men might be.

But that was only if he got Halla through the pregnancy. The turn of nine moons seemed like a _damned_ long time to being growing a whelp, and it worried Maukurz that Halla felt so sick already. _Better get this deer back to her,_ he thought.

* * *

Halla grimaced, looking away from Maukurz's knife. "_No," _she said. "I'll get sick again. Please… just cook it."

"I'm not trying to get you _sick_, Halla. I want you to feel better. You got my baby in you, and _I_ feel run down if I don't eat enough raw meat. Just try it, lil girl. It'll be good for Baby. He _needs_ it."

She wrinkled her nose. "It looks disgusting. I don't even like _cooked_ liver."

"Im'a cut real little bites for you, all right? For Baby? For you to both feel strong?"

Halla relented, nodding, watching in rapt horror as Maukurz sliced thin cuts of the raw organ on her wooden plate. Blood pooled beneath the piece of liver.

"There you go," he said, pushing the plate before her.

"I can't _believe_ I'm doing this!" Halla said, taking a slice of raw liver in her fingertips, trying to ignore the soft wetness of it. She closed her eyes, put it in her mouth and swallowed without tasting.

"See? You _can_ do it."

Halla peeked at Maukurz, then closed her eyes again, laughing. "This is so disgusting! Give me another piece."

Grinning, Maukurz fed her bite by bite until all the liver was gone. Halla realized—astonished—that the taste on her tongue wasn't unpleasant at all, and her stomach didn't feel sick in the slightest way. As she opened her eyes, Maukurz kissed her brow. "There," he said, pleased. "Next some water, and then you rest some more. I told you, I've got you. I'm gonna be sure you get what you need, in every way." Maukurz took Halla's face in his hands, brushing his thumb tenderly over her lips to wipe away the flecks of deer blood she'd have surely been horrified to know about. "Lemme go get some snow to melt for water."

Her blue eyes steadily on his face, Halla murmured, "Maybe you can come to bed in a little bit?"

Maukurz tilted his head sexily, a slow smile crossing his face. "You feel all right for that?"

"Yes," she whispered, drawing the word into a sigh. "Something nice and sweet and slow. That will make me feel better."

Maukurz's heart thumped and his cock jumped, stiffening immediatly. "I'll set some snow out to melt, and come _right _to bed." He stood and walked away, feeling his Halla staring at his strong calves and hamstring muscles.

Halla sighed happily and stretched out on the furs. She loosened the laces on her blue gown, and swept her hands over her little round breasts and down her belly. She was _changing_, already. Her breasts were swelling, they were painfully sore times, and her peachy-pink nipples seemed larger and more flushed. Her flat belly was hard and felt slightly rounded under her palm. And Maukurz had been right. As her stomach went to work on the raw liver, she felt a little less nauseous, a little less fatigued. Hand on her belly, Halla murmured, "You liked that, Baby? Is that what you needed?"

She'd laughed before at the idea of a woman talking to her unborn child, but now she understood. Baby was tiny, but she was sure she felt him, growing snug and safe in her womb. Halla imagined a little Maukurz, a toddler, maybe, with blue eyes like hers, running on fat strong baby legs. _Grey_ legs, Halla thought with a smile. She adored her baby already; she would love a girl too, but she was utterly certain Maukurz had given her a wild, free, smiling son. She had seen him in her dreams, dreams where for the first time in her life, since her parents had died, everything felt _right_ and safe and perfectly happy.

* * *

"Captain," Baiurz said, motioning Maukurz over.

"Commander," Maukurz said, squatting down beside the recovering Uruk, dangling his empty helmet between his legs.

"I'm not listenin' to you two; but she wants you _now_, in the middle of the day?"

Maukurz leaned back, tensing. If one of the other Uruks had asked that, Maukurz would have smacked him.

"Relax, Iron-Cock," Baiurz growled, shaking his head. "I had more than my share o'white-skins, I don't particularly care overmuch if I have another. I certainly ain't tryin' to take yours from you, 'specially all the good stuff yuh got going with her. I want more like her, for the others."

"I hope they find them, boss. But she needs water, and…"

"And she wants some more o'you, I know," Baiurz said, chuckling. "All I'm sayin' is that if the others come back, give it a rest. I can handle it, and they've been doin' their best. Mornin' and night's enough for 'em. Not all damn day too. And get that shitty grin off your face!"

_"Akhoth!_" Maukurz saluted smartly, though the smile never went away. He was _damned_ lucky, and he knew it. He stepped outside the cave in time to see Narzum and Shatauz running up, and his smile dissipated, sensing Narzum's tension.

"He come back yet?" Narzum asked, panting and frowning.

Maukurz felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if an enemy was plotting against him, or the Master walked by him on parade. "Dagalur," Maukurz groaned softly. "No, he's not here. Hasn't been here all morning."

"He said he was gonna hunt, then do his morning run, then meet up with us to butcher our kills together," Narzum explained quickly. "I swear, Cap'n, I thought he'd given up on the Dunland girl…"

"We don't know that he's done anything yet," Maukurz said. "But we better go look for him, just in case. And if he's leering at that red-haired _migaz_ I'm gonna beat his face in myself this time!"

Maukurz went back into the cave, and put his helmet by the fire. He took his canteen, grateful that he'd saved a few mouthfuls of water. He dashed around the sheet, feeling a rush of anger at Dagalur when he saw the lovely hunger in Halla's eyes. He knelt by her side and gave her the canteen. "I gotta take a walk with Narzum and Shatauz," Maukurz said. He lay his hand alongside her smooth cheek, adoring her little whimper of desire. "Later, _ashgaz_," he murmured, kissing her mouth, biting her lower lip softly. "I'll make it up to you."

"Come back _soon_," Halla whispered, gripping the hem of his kilt as he stood.

"I will. I swear."

_I'll be back quick, dragging that _flagit_ by his hair if he's gone and started any trouble! _Maukurz picked up his bow. She kissed the air, her blue eyes smiling, and Maukurz left her.

Worried now that Dagalur might have done something truly foolish, something that endangered all of them, Maukurz offered his commander no explanation other than saying he'd be back in a moment. The Commander frowned at his back, but he knew Maukurz's style of leadership well enough. When the matter needed his attention, Maukurz would bring him in.

"Let's head for Dunland territory first," Maukurz told Narzum and Shatauz, and he ran off through the snow, knowing the other two would follow.

As Maukurz ran, he lost hope as he began to pick up Dagalur's scent, which got stronger as they headed towards the stream where Dagalur had stalked the woman. They followed it alarmingly deep into Dunland, to the banks of another mountain stream, where they lost the scent completely. Listening keenly for enemies, scanning the forest warily, the Uruks spread out, covering the ground like an efficient scouting party.

The principle weapons of Dunland were the club and the axe, but Maukurz knew that rudimentary bows were employed: not nearly as good even as Shatauz's, but good enough to kill. Maukurz smelled the faint scent of Men on the air, the peculiar scent common to Wild Men who never washed, rancid even to Uruk-hai senses. Yet none were coming their way. Maukurz crept on, sniffing the air and looking for sign.

Shatauz whistled softly, and Maukurz and Narzum jogged stealthy towards him. They picked up Dagalur's scent immediately, and soon it became overpowering. Maukurz's breath quickened: he smelled blood, Uruk blood.

Maukurz, Narzum, and Shatauz stopped short at the mouth of a small clearing, their fury choking them.

Dagalur, dead as could be, was impaled on a stake in the middle of the clearing, the crebain pecking out his eyes.


	27. Chapter 27

"Get _down_," Maukurz hissed. Once on the ground, he grabbed Narzum's arm, feeling the tension and rage humming in the lanky Uruk's body. Maukurz was hoping none of the growling of the others would erupt into a roar.

Two Men who smelled more like animals—one with some sort of beaten bronze fillet on his head—came to look at Dagalur's corpse. Maukurz figured that one was the leader, and the other Man was showing off what he had done. The leader cast his eyes about, looking around the forest and up to the mountain peaks.

"Let's kill them!" Narzum hissed, and by Shatauz's growling purr, Maukurz knew the other Uruk agreed. "Kill them, get Dagalur back!"

Maukurz knew that they needed to kill. They needed to avenge Dagalur, they needed to release their rage. _He_ needed to release his own. He didn't care what Dagalur had done: Dagalur was Uruk-hai, his little brother who looked to him for protection and guidance, his friend.

"No," Maukurz growled harshly, denying himself first and foremost. "We can do nothing yet. Even if we kill them and no one else sees, we will give ourselves away. If we take his body back, we give ourselves away. We can do nothing _yet._ We go home, we wait a while… and then when the time is right and we catch one of their hunters alone, we avenge Dagalur and do away with the corpse."

"_Shit_," Narzum spat, shaking with fury, more than the rest for the fact that he and Dagalur had been playmates for some while. "This is _shit._ I want the whole _village_ gone! I want their _blood_."

Maukurz made no reply. They all knew well enough that the days of Uruk-hai strength were gone. The three of them couldn't destroy a village of Men. They had no choice but to slink back into hiding, leaving their brother behind. As disgusted and blood-thirsty as he was himself, Maukurz had to pull Narzum away, a dangerous proposition. The Uruk was trembling in helpless, unvented rage, his eyes wild and furious. Even the climb back up the mountain, and the hard path Maukurz led them on, didn't spend much of their heat.

"Think he told on us?" Shatauz asked as they reached their lofty territory.

"Never!" Narzum growled.

"I doubt it," Maukurz said. "But we'll be on alert all the same. You all got your kills for today, right?"

"Not _nearly_."

Maukurz sighed, shaking his head at Narzum. "We _will_ have revenge, Narzum. But you gotta wait. And it's gonna be done the way Commander wants it."

"He ain't gonna let us," Narzum said harshly. "He's gonna make us wear this shit on our faces."

"No he won't!" Maukurz insisted. "But he's gonna want it done right. We don't have Isengard to run back to, and we don't have a wizard protecting us. But that don't mean we're _helpless._ You calm the fuck down, and wait for my command. I'll get you your blood, Narzum. You have to trust me, though, and don't do nothing stupid on your own. You see where that got Dagalur."

"I'll wait," Narzum growled. "But whatever Dunland filth I catch is gonna beg me for death when the time comes. He gonna watch me eatin' him, bit by bit."

Maukurz left Narzum and Shatauz in the snow, Narzum describing the torture he'd visit on the Dunlending, Shatauz staring into the distance without seeing anything at all. Maukurz entered the cave, and sat down before the fire, sighing heavily. Baiurz regarded him carefully, expectantly.

"She sleepin'?" Maukurz asked.

"Think so. She ain't been too talkative today. Takin' the whelp hard, I think. So… what is it?"

Maukurz met his Commander's gaze levelly. "Dagalur's dead. He couldn't handle Halla being here. He wanted to take a woman for himself. I did what I could to straighten him out, and it's been weeks. I thought he'd given up on it. I made a mistake, lightening up on him. He went on down to Dunland, and whatever he did, they killed him and staked him in the woods."

Baiurz's face twisted savagely. He grabbed a log out of the fire and hurled it at the cave wall, sending sparks flying as he unleashed a rush of profanity. Maukurz sat still in the face of his Commander's fury, feeling his own mighty guilt as a weight around his next. But there was nothing for either Uruk to do but accept Dagalur's killing. As much as Halla's presence had caused it, the girl couldn't be blamed and neither could Maukurz. "Why couldn't he just be patient?" Baiurz demanded. "We're _going _to find more females, one way or another! Why couldn't he do like the others? It don't help us a bit to have a breeder if we die off before she can spit out the whelps!"

Maukurz bristled at this description of Halla, but said nothing.

"Go on," Baiurz hissed, waving his hand, mourning Dagalur in his own hard-nosed way. "We're on alert now. Assign watches. No more hunting today. I doubt Dagalur ratted us out, but all the same, we'll be watching for those _pushdugu_ to come up the mountain until we're sure they don't know about us." Baiurz stared for a moment. His captain wasn't moving. "That was a _dismissal_, Captain!"

"Commander…" Maukurz said quietly, "They want revenge. They _need_ revenge. I need it."

"_Skai,_ Maukurz! You want more trouble?"

"I was thinking something quiet, nothing that would let other Men know we're here. They hunt alone just like we do. We can stalk a couple, kill them, get rid of what ain't eaten. All they'll know in the Dunlending camp is that some of their Men didn't make it home. And it'll settle Narzum and Shatauz down, knowin' Dagalur's death won't go unavenged." Maukurz hardened his voice to add, "They won't feel like helpless _rats_ waiting to be picked off each time they come outta their hole."

"Well…" Baiurz sighed. "All right. But that's gonna have to wait a good while. So's they don't figure out it's revenge."

Maukurz nodded, pushing himself up. He felt uncommonly heavy, and had the same tightness in his chest as when his boys did poorly in a raid and caught heavy casualties. When he walked around the sheet and saw Halla asleep with one arm over her belly, he sighed through grit teeth to know that his happiness had led to Dagalur's death.

He sat beside her on the bed, and she woke immediately. She smiled to see him, but Halla was developing an almost Orcish ability to sense her lover's moods. Rising to her knees, she came behind Maukurz and linked her arms around his neck. She kissed the top of his head, his thick black hair, and murmured, "What is it, my love?"

Sighing again, Maukurz leaned his cheek against her arm. This was something he'd never had before: someone who cared about him. At the same time, he'd never cared _so_ damned much about losing a body. He'd called Halla precious, but Dagalur was precious too. For a moment, Maukurz even regretted what he'd done to Flaguz: sensing animosity, Maukurz had done his best to bring it to a feverish high in the other Uruk, and then when Flaguz couldn't help but attack, Maukurz had pulled his trap and gutted Flaguz. He might have handled it another way. He might have saved one more Uruk-hai life.

"Dagalur is dead."

"_How?"_ Halla breathed, horrified. Maukurz lay his hand over her arm, holding it tightly. He closed his eyes, just feeling her.

"He wanted a woman, so he ran to one of the Dunlending villages. Maybe tried to take her, I don't know. They killed him."

She exhaled sorrow, and hugged up against Maukurz, laying her cheek on his shoulder. "He wanted what we have," she murmured quietly.

"Uh-huhn," Maukurz grumbled. He waited until his body was burning for her, and then turned, put his face against hers for a moment, breathing her in. Then he backed away from her. "Not in the day," he said quietly. "It fucks with them, you _gotta _understand."

"I can try to," Halla said softly. "Men aren't… so like this. So… _physical._"

Maukurz brushed his finger over her cheeks, thinking that if she knew just how _much_ the others had heard—and scented—of her, she'd be upset, something along the lines of when she'd been sick, but maybe worse. She'd know how very little privacy she really had. "I want our own place," he admitted.

Halla wrapped her arms around Maukurz, kissing his brow softly. "Sometimes I just like to hold you," she said, sitting down again, almost primly.

"Oh no, you don't get away like that," he returned, pulling her into his chest. Maukurz ran his hands over Halla's back, feeling it arch and twist as she snuggled into him. "I like to hold you," he repeated. "I like to be beside you. And I like you on my lips," he said, kissing her hair. "And I like to be buried inside you," he murmured against her ear. He closed his eyes and held her close, feeling the length of her slim, soft body pressed against his chest. "But I gotta go talk to the others now. Narzum and Shatauz. I got orders. I got a duty."

"I am sorry about Dagalur," Halla said softly.

Maukurz nodded, but found he could say no more about it to her.

* * *

Narzum sliced into the mountain goat's carcass, his glazed eyes seeing the torso of a Man. He pulled at the edges of fur and flesh, peering inside of the animal; then methodically tore the intestines out. "Man can live without these a couple moments at least," he observed, pulling out his bloody hand and claws, regarding them coolly.

"Don't fuck up," Maukurz warned. "You got some time to wait. Don't fuck up now, we gotta stick together."

"I won't," Narzum said, gutting his kill with neat precision after his momentary fantasy. "But I can't stand this life much longer."

"Cap'n felt the same way this summer," Shatauz said. "But then the girl came along."

"I'm not talking about cunt!" Narzum cried, frustrated. He looked desperately to Maukurz, to see if he was offended. Maukurz stared at him with hard eyes, but the Captain's heart was open. "I don't mean that girl in there, your sweet honey, Captain Maukurz, who I'd die to protect. I'm talking about _power_," Narzum continued. "Who could stand before the Fighting Uruk-hai! Now look how we live! Dagalur couldn't even get some skin without getting killed! How easy did it used to be? The Riders would be trouble for us, but what _village_ would have impaled one of us, and set him out for all to see? You think your problems are over because you got a girl and she's whelped, big brother? _We _are the sport now! We are the hunted! How can we accept that?"

"So what you wanna do, Narzum?" Maukurz asked, sticking his knife in his deer and looking at the deceptively skinny Uruk. "Go back to war with these folk, just us?" Maukurz laughed harshly. "Position your soldiers, Narzum! How we gonna hit the camp? Will we wait until Baiurz has full use of his foot again before we rush them?"

"How long d'you think we can remain hidden, Captain?" Narzum asked pointedly in return. "One turn o'the seasons? Two? Three? Dagalur got killed, and if Captain's girl had been anyone else, he'd be dead too. Pretty soon we'll all be dead."

"Fuck this," Shatauz said. "Ain't no good to think that way. Baiurz said it when we came: we do what we gotta do to get through each day." He tapped a claw against his temple, staring at Narzum. "You got fucked up thinking. I ain't listening to you. Cap'n... he's fucked in the head."

"Yeah?" Narzum asked rawly. "You can't remember the old days, when all of this was ours? I know I can. When it was worth living. When anything we saw, we took. No matter what we do now—even if we do make it—we ain't never gettin' that feeling back. All our brothers died at the Fords and the Deep… and then at Isengard, drowning in the river… At least they never felt what it was like to scurry like a rat on their bellies! Fighting Uruk-hai, huh? Fuck this," Narzum said, turning his hide inside out, leaving the scraped out food for his brothers. "I can't eat."

Narzum stood up and walked off, calling, "Don't worry! I won't do nothin' stupid, unless it's stayin' alive in shame!"

The cave was quiet for the rest of the day. Maukurz saw that Halla ate again, and then took a watch. Shatauz and Baiurz looked over the weapons the younger Uruk was making. Narzum sat in silence for a long while, until sunset when he took out his drum and began to slowly tap as the fire was lit in the cave, playing until the night watch came and he disappeared into the shadows.

Halla felt the oppressive mood in the cave. She lit more candles and stood at the edge of the curtain, peering around it like an eavesdropper, wanting Maukurz. None of the other Uruks paid her any mind. She wished more than anything for Maukurz to return. She felt much better now, not nauseous at all, yet quite awkward and lonely without him. She tried to occupy herself sewing but couldn't manage it; the mournful drumming followed by thick silence made her edgy. She returned again to the curtain… and was surprised to see Maukurz's shadow casting on the moonlit floor of the cave, beneath the windbreak she'd made. Halla took a deep breath, and walked through the cave, past the two other Uruks. Maukurz was standing just outside the cave, leaning against the cold granite and limestone wall of the mountain.

"Why don't you come in?" Halla asked him.

Maukurz looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, a dangerously feral expression. "Too many thoughts. Too many… memories."

"Come to bed," she breathed softly, looking up at him with such innocence in her eyes.

Maukurz shook his head. He took in her wide blue eyes, the soft pink lips he loved to bite. "I got dark thoughts tonight, Halla," he told her honestly.

"So why don't you want to be with me? Forget them for a while?"

" 'Cause… 'cause if I _do_ get on you… I'm not gonna want to get off for a long time." He could not tell her, but behind his eyes, he saw burning buildings, and his ears strained for screams. They were associated with almost all of his feelings of safety and power… and yet at the same time, he wanted them away from him. In the past, there was only one way to push the memory of carnage away: losing himself in the body of a whiteskin.

"And so…" Halla said quietly, "What you are saying is, you don't trust that I want you… or you don't trust yourself not to hurt me."

Maukurz met her eyes, but didn't answer.

"I _want_ you tonight, Maukurz… And I know you are so sad… I want to make you happy, too." Halla gripped the front of his tunic in her hand, her fist softly against his chest. She looked up at him boldly. "Take me to bed, Maukurz."

It was irresistible, and Maukurz looked her over for only a moment before he lifted her, his arm under her backside, her belly at his shoulder. Halla ducked the roof of the cave, one arm around Maukurz's neck, her fingers through his thick hair. He brought her to bed and dropped to his knees, cradling Halla's back carefully as he lay her down.

Maukurz tore gently at the laces of her gown, then plunged his hand inside, gripping her breasts softly, putting his lips to them as his other hand slipped between her thighs. Maukurz didn't even undress. He yanked his clout aside and flipped his kilt up a little, stroking his long thick cock with a wet hand before entering her. Halla cried out softly, and Maukurz lifted her leg against his hip, closing his eyes as he was able to plunge deeper. Halla had been righter than she knew, that she could make him forget: for a long while, the Uruk thought of nothing save the feeling of her hot sex, gripping him tightly, wet and silken as he pumped inside her as deep as he could. Never in the War had he had anything so good, he remembered through the haze. He made her come without trying, and delighting in it, set himself to get her again and again, through his own climax and beyond.

"Stop…" Halla gasped finally. Panting, flushed, and with quivering limbs, Halla held Maukurz in her arms. His eyes ran over her, drinking her in. Halla understood what he'd warned her of now: it had been a long while that he'd been inside her, strong and vigorous with no sign of tiring. His cock was heavy and wet and hot against her thigh now, hard as a sword. She watched him quietly as his hand brushed over her lightly, feeling her swollenness. And then she closed her eyes in delight, because he ducked his head, and was dragging his claws softly over her belly, following his tongue. He crossed her trembling legs behind his neck playfully, and kissed her until she whimpered for him once more.

Maukurz crawled over her, balancing himself on his strong arms and watching her quizzically. "Yeah?"

Halla nodded, and couldn't take three pumps before moaning in protest and shaking her head. "I think I'm done."

Maukurz leaned down, not wanting anyone to hear him. He whispered in her ear, "Turn over."

Halla stared at him, understanding. Maukurz nodded, kissing her lips and her neck, and murmuring, "Turn over," again.

Watching him with sultry eyes, Halla turned, and Maukurz took her hips in his hands. He didn't want her on her belly tonight. He gently pushed on the arch of her back, until he had the angle he wanted. Halla was still, quiet as she felt his hand cupping over her, stroking her softly, making her slippery and wet all over. She looked over her shoulder again and Maukurz met her gaze, his eyes gold and warm and rich. He grinned roguishly, and Halla felt a sting of pain, and a thrill of pleasure, as he began to push his cock into her backside.

Halla surrendered quickly to the overpowering feelings running all through her body. She cried out sharply until Maukurz leaned over her back, so his hand could cover her mouth. When she whimpered, his other hand slipped between her legs, touching her deftly until the pleasure was too much for her to feel any pain as he stretched her inside. She could hear him in her ear, his rumbling purr, his harsh growls, becoming more intense with every thrust. Halla thought he would come hard for sure; she was torn on whether or not she wanted it all to end. But then his arms crossed over her chest, and he began to pull her up.

"Shh…" Maukurz whispered. "Almost…"

Halla groaned hard as Maukurz repositioned himself so that he sat on his shins, and she was on his lap, his cock all the way up inside her. Maukurz began to rock his hips and thrust, drawing another long moan from Halla's lips. He gripped her softly in his hand; his other arm covered her breasts. Falling into the moment, Halla ground against him as he pumped up into her, her own hands covering her mouth for fear of waking the others as she swelled with pleasure again. Maukurz clutched Halla's body close to him then, her desire inflaming his, a back and forth reaction as they worked each other up. He was finally done for; all of his heat and anger and memories and passion rushing into his belly, gripping him for a moment in mindlessness. He had no idea what he was doing as his teeth touched Halla's neck and began to bite. Her sharp cry cut through the haze of his orgasm just barely, and Maukurz jerked his head away, clutching her tightly against his body before he fell into his furs.

Maukurz, panting, rolled onto his back. The calm he knew so well had come over him, putting failure and death and hopelessness too far away to imagine. He sighed with content as Halla settled against his chest, just as speechless.

"Did… I bite you… bad?"

"No…" Halla murmured. "You stopped when I cried."

Maukurz sighed, relieved. She took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. Maukurz looked down on her, amazed. "Thank you," he breathed, barely a whisper.

"Sleep now, love," Halla said softly, smoothing her fingers over his chest, relieved to see there was no more darkness in him, only a deep, soothed peace. Her own body massaged and wrung and at perfect ease, Halla slipped easily into her dreams.

* * *

"Maukurz! Maukurz get up!"

Halla opened her eyes, and immediately shimmed down in the blankets. Shatauz had his head around the sheet, and his eyes were wide.

"What the _fuck?"_ Maukurz groaned on waking. He came alert quickly. "Watch out, _ashgaz,_" he murmured, slipping away from her, and throwing back the blanket enough to rise. "So, what?" he demanded.

"Take a whiff, Cap'n."

Maukurz scowled impatiently at Shatauz, walking around him. He strode out into the cave and took a deep breath. "Aww _damn_," Maukurz groaned. It had been such a perfect sleep, too. He'd been at such ease, after the rotten day he'd had yesterday. Shaking his head, he looked to Baiurz at the mouth of the cave."

"That's right," the Commander said, standing tall on his injured foot. "_Snaga_ approach."

Maukurz had slipped out of his clothes sometime in his sleep. Now he ran to grab his kilt, then wound it around his hips, so he could join the other two Uruks out front. Two shapes emerged, tall lines of darkness in the thick morning fog.

Slowly Narzum came into sight, grinning ear to ear. A tough, gamey, travelworn little Orc followed him.

"Well roast my nuts," Baiurz breathed. "It's Commissar Ghuribal"


	28. Chapter 28

"_Garn!_ Nassty sun!" Ghuribal whined, darting past Baiurz into the cave, frantically brushing his bare, burn-mottled arms and bandy legs, as if he could wipe the sun's offending rays off his skin.

"Little less o'yuh now, huh Commissar?" Baiurz asked, hands on his hips, looking at the hole where Ghuribal's pointy ear had been.

Ghuribal turned his head up, grinning. "Aye, lost a few bits here an' there. Oh—eh, it's _you_ is it?" Ghuribal asked, jerking his thumb at Maukurz. "What yuh brought _him_ for, Commander? Ain't enough holes around here for him to stick his dick—"

The Orc froze. Snuffling sniffing sounds began coming from his rather rattish nose, suddenly stuck up in the air. "_Oooh_… Bein' bad up in the mountains, eh? Got any left for an old frie—"

"I've had enough," Maukurz declared, grabbing Ghuribal by the back of his ragged leather vest. Maukurz walked back to the mouth of the cave, extending his arm out into the morning sunlight.

Ghuribal squealed, throwing his hands up in the air, revealing three stumps on his left hand where fingers once were. "All right! All right! You win! You win!"

"Put him down," Baiurz said, laughing heartily.

"Lucky little _shit,_" Maukurz hissed, launching Ghuribal back into the darkness.

The Orc landed spryly on his feet. "What a welcome!" He huffed indignantly. "You ain't changed a _bit_, Captain Maukurz. Keep it up, I won't tell yuh _nothin'_ 'bout how it goes in the world."

Grinning, Narzum explained, "It ain't just his hatred for _snaga._ Captain has a _sharlob_ for himself. She's hands-off to the rest of us."

"Quickest way to die," Baiurz said, "is to insult his female."

"Number one stud here too, eh Maukurz?"

"Fuck your face, slave," Maukurz growled, sitting down by the fire. "Don't _ever_ talk about her again."

"We're all _snaga_ now," Ghuribal said cheerfully. "Just without the food rations. King O'Men's clearin' the world of Orc-folk. Southland's already at war, but it ain't no _proper_ war. Ol' Elf-lover's moppin' up whatever's left of the clans, barely anyone's fightin' back. You folk better just sit tight up here. Go south it's the _tarku_, go north yuh got Rangers. Go east yuh got Riders. You all are fucked tight. Just the way yuh like it, eh, Cap?"

"_Just _like," Maukurz purred, his voice dripping with contempt.

"You've been South?" Baiurz asked. "What remains?"

"What remains o'_what?"_ Ghuribal asked. "Lugburz? Done. The Dead City? Dead indeed, 'ceptin' the rats. The Eye went bust, takin' out most of Gorgoroth with it. And everywhere yuh go, Men are skipping and singing and throwin' flowers, rubbin' yer face in it. There's crews o' Men out there, hunting the survivors in the name of Gondor."

"What about Isengard?" Shatauz asked. "What about the Master?"

"Dead and Gone, respectively. Isengard ain't nothin' but a tower surrounded by a mucky hole in the ground now. And like everywhere ele, it's got a bad infestation of tarks."

The Uruks exchanged worried glances. Narzum shuddered, thinking of how very near he came to being buried in that muck. It was Dagalur who had pulled him out.

"Tarks talkin' to the Riders?" Maukurz asked.

"Oh _now_ you want somethin' from Ghuribal, eh? _Now_ yuh wanna be friends?"

"Answer my fucking question, imp."

Ghuribal shrugged lightly. "They're know _you're_ up here, they'll send a special platoon to fetch ye, and make yuh eat yer guts."

Baiurz set his jaw. "Shatauz… grab some o' yesterday's meat from the snow-pack and get out on watch. Ghuribal… what are their numbers at Isengard? And answer the Captain's question: do they meet up with Riders?"

"They're as many as the lice on ol' Gharsh-il's head. As many as a bad case of scabies runnin' through the bullpens. But no Riders that _I_ saw. And certainly not gettin' ready to come _this_ way, with winter comin' in! Course I was on the run, not snoopin' around."

"From the white-skins?" Baiurz asked.

"Naw..." Ghuribal pawed the hole where his ear once lived, chuckling. "Ran into one of the breedin' lasses from Mordor. Took up together for a little while, but she had _no_ sense of humor. She was _sleeping,_ how was I to know she'd take it hard?"

"White-skins in Mordor?" Baiurz demanded. "They were breeding there? There are more Uruk-hai?"

"_Pschaw_, whut I want takin' up with a _white-skin _for any more than a day? They was breedin' _Orcs _in Mordor. All type uh Orcs, even bigg'uns like you bucks, but not the same. Can't stand the sun, not like you big _baalak_ freaks. Ol' girl was good for keepin' me full, but what a spoil-sport! I had to give 'er the slip."

"_Right,"_ Maukurz said. "She was whittlin' you down piece by piece and you _ran_, you toad."

"We can't all have _your_ skillful touch with the matin' games, sweet-face. 'Course I like Orc _females_, so that there's a difference…"

"Take what I can get," Maukurz shrugged, grinning wolfishly. " 'Specially if it means puttin' you ball-busters in your _place._"

"I ain't sleepin' near him," Ghuribal told Baiurz. "Don't care where yuh put me, but not by _him._"

"Who said you're _staying?_" Maukurz asked.

Ghuribal looked hopefully at Baiurz, his remaining ear twitching fetchingly. "Just a few nights? Those greasy Dunland pricks are swarmin' all over the place."

Baiurz and Maukurz exchanged a hard glance. "They comin' up the mountain?"

"Nope, but they're all through the forest. Like I said, you folks best sit tight up here."

"And where are you goin' when yuh move on?" Baiurz asked.

"I was thinkin' Angmar. My folk been gone outta these mountains for a good sixty-some year now. Whatever clan is hidden near those parts now better _stay_ hidden when those tarks get movin'! I'ma run north. Angmar, the troll fells, some place where the sky is big and the Men fear to walk at night."

"You can stay a few days, then, but you're pretty much on your own for meat. We had some trouble with the Dunlendings so until that clears up, you ain't goin' down the mountain to hunt. Maybe Narzum or Shatauz will share with you. Maukurz wouldn't give you nothin' anyway; and he's got a breeding female to feed, too. And that's the next thing: his female. You cross a line with her, we'll all take turns with yuh, and then _maybe_ we'll let you die. She's one of us. Go 'head, Maukurz. Let Ghuribal see Halla."

Maukurz sighed through his teeth. _Baiurz is right, that's the worst part._ _But now I got _snaga_ stinking up my cave._ Shaking his head, Maukurz pushed himself up and walked behind the curtain. Halla was already up, wearing her white gown, her long pale hair brushed and falling smooth and silky to her hips. "Did you hear all of that?"

Halla stood up, taking his breath away with her fine, welcoming looks. She walked over to Maukurz, stood on her toes against his chest and murmured, "You don't like this one very much, even if the others do."

"I don't like _any_ _snaga_. We had a bad start from the beginnin' and it got worse from there. They were good for gettin' contraband in, but I'd rather go through another soldier to get what I want. Fuck them. Then again… War's over, and nothin's the way it was."

"You are saying Baiurz is right," Halla replied.

"He's right this time," Maukurz said. _It's true, there ain't no choice but to stick together. At least we ain't _Men. _At least we'll question before we attack._ "Come on, _ashgaz. _Time to meet the Commissar…"

Maukurz brought Halla by hand around the sheet, then stood behind her, his arms possessively wrapped around her belly. Staring at Ghuribal, he said, "This is Halla. Stop looking at her now."

Wide-eyed, Ghuribal turned to Baiurz. Aside from her lovely hair, it was Halla's face that caught the little Orc's attention. "She's _smiling._ Something's wrong with her, right? Head wound?"

Maukurz could have gotten angry, had Baiurz and Narzum not laughed from their guts. He relaxed slightly, even as his arms tightened on Halla, and couldn't help his slow, proud grin.

Ghuribal whistled softly. A white-skin with an Uruk by _choice_ was an interesting thing. "You got a good one, Captain. Don't deserve her by a sight, but that there's a good one. Don't worry none about me troublin' yer _sharlob_. She keeps smiling like that, I'll die for her too"

"Smart choice, Ghuribal," Narzum said.

"Like I said," Baiurz growled, "She's his, but we all want her to stay here. And each one of us looks out for her. Touch her…"

"I know, I know, I'll beg for death," Ghuribal grumbled, sliding closer to the fire, rubbing his hands together and warming them. "All I want's a safe, dry place to sleep. And I'd rather have me an Orc-lass any day."

"Didn't she cut off your ear?" Halla asked archly, feeling a little raw at being talked about as if she wasn't in their presence. She never wanted to be excluded from any conversation again; she'd had enough of that in her old life. And she _wasn't_ about to let some little _snaga_ insult her! At least not while Maukurz held her so tightly.

The Uruk-hai and the Orc all looked at her with surprise. Maukurz grinned and Ghuribal laughed out loud. "She did indeed, Mistress!" he said, winking at Halla amicably. "But she was a sweet thing, and I got another one."

* * *

For all his rangy, gamey, energetic body and talk, once Ghuribal fell asleep he didn't wake up for a long while. Only then did the others realize he had no sandals or boots and his feet—even tough as they were—were bloody and badly worn. His trousers weren't Isengard issued, but they were frayed at the bottoms and only covered down to the middle of his calves. His shirt was in tatters.

"It's as bad as I thought out there," Baiurz said quietly, banking up the fire.

Maukurz leaned his cheek against Halla's head. She sat on his lap as the Narzum divied up the meat they'd stored raw in the snow.

"Maybe we should go north," Narzum said.

"What? Leave?" Halla asked, looking up at Maukurz anxiously.

"Too late now," Baiurz said, his tone giving way that moving was something he'd considered. "Another storm's coming, I'm sure. The mountain will be impassable until next spring. But then, we might think of it."

"Baby's coming in the spring," Maukurz said, his palm covering Halla's belly.

"All the more reason to go," Narzum offered. "You gonna want to train up yer whelp where Uruk-hai are hunted?"

Halla closed her eyes in pain, turning her head to Maukurz's chest.

"I don't know if there are places out there that would be better," Maukurz said. "I don't know if it's so safe to pick up and go, especially if we got tarks all over the trails, searching for us. And we won't know how the hunting is, or where's a safe place to sleep. It's tough to hide here, but I think mostly that it's safe up here. And I sure won't take Halla and Baby to someplace worse."

"This is my land," Halla said quietly. "I don't know anything else."

"Well," Baiurz said, "We ain't goin' nowhere now, so we'd better make the best of it here."

Halla nodded. She stood up, dropping Maukurz's hand, and walked out of the cave.

The older Uruk poked at the fire again; lately he'd found that his bones noticed the cold more than they did during the War. He looked up at his captain. "Didn't tell her about all that, did you?"

"It happened… _fast._ Neither of us thought much. Sure didn't talk about it. I suppose she thought we'd be safe living up here forever. Build a little wood hut like her people like. And I didn't try to stop her from thinkin' it, I guess. Like it would be easy to be together."

"You wanted her. Now you got her. Better go tell her something, right?"

"It'd be nice to know _what_ to tell her. I'm the last of my kind, living in the woods surrounded by far better numbered and armed enemies, and one of them thinks she belongs to him. And Baby's gonna suffer what I suffer, no matter what. I want to tell her how I'm gonna keep them safe, but all I can think to say is that I'd die for them both. That ain't especially promising."

Maukurz met his commander's eye, where his unspoken words were reflected: _Maybe she'd have been better off where she was._

"She got Baby now," Maukurz said quietly, shrugging his shoulders. "She can't go back."

"You didn't plan that?"

Maukurz got up abruptly. "I gotta talk to her."

"Go on, then," Baiurz told him. "Ai Maukurz!"

The Uruk turned, resignation in his golden eyes.

"Let's just see her through her breedin'. See that Baby comes healthy, and that she makes it and keeps on smiling. We'll figure the rest out after."

"Right," Maukurz said, stepping out into the cold twilight.

Halla had climbed up the jagged rocks; she was standing above the cave, looking out over the pine trees into the dark eastern sky. Maukurz's heart was in his throat thinking she'd fall. He climbed up quickly, standing beside her on the narrow ledge and wrapping his arms firmly around her waist.

"Whatchu lookin' at, _ashgaz?"_

"The fires," she murmured. "Down there, all the way down, that is the village of High Meadow. Beyond it is… the manor house."

"I know," Maukurz said. "How you think I found you that night, in the storm?"

"It's all my land, you know. Not the house, but where the new barn ends, all the way into the forest. If my father was alive, he'd claim it up to the mountaintops, I know it. It should be mine, but our law doesn't work that way. If it was mine, I wouldn't be so afraid. No soldiers would cross my land without my express written consent, and we would be safe."

"What do you mean, it's yours, but your law doesn't work that way?"

Halla closed her eyes. "My _husband_ took my land into his care when we married. Then he built up a village and started cutting trees. He probably _won't_ look for me, now that I think of it. He has what he wants from me: the land. I never mattered to him."

Maukurz breathed her in, his lips in her hair. "We will be safe," Maukurz said, willing himself to believe it. "We'll be warm, curled up all winter long. Only a little hunting, and walks in the snow. Then when the warm weather comes… we'll have Baby."

"No one will come up here in the snow…" Halla said unsteadily.

" 'Course not," Maukurz promised, holding her against chest.

* * *

"So you will join us?" Haldren asked, stroking one of his hounds absently. "The pay will be high and the work bloody."

"Black blood," Finnan said grimly. "Doesn't count."

Haldren raised a mug in toast, the foamy ale frothing over the side. "Good. You'll need to raise at least 25 foot soldiers on your own. We'll receive our assignments in Osgiliath. Then we'll kill ourselves some Orcs. You said you wanted to get away, Lord Finnan. Have a purpose again. Here it is."


	29. Chapter 29

The next morning, as Baiurz had predicted, a snowstorm trapped everyone in the cave. The Uruks passed their time sleeping, throwing bones, or fiddling with the weapons Shatauz had made. Maukurz was the only one enjoying himself, hunkered down behind the partition with Halla. By mid-afternoon, Ghuribal was up, his one ear pricked towards the muffled sounds of consentual _sharlob_ fucking, which were punctuated every so often by Halla's high, soft cries or laughter, and the occasional growling, roaring orgasm.

"How you stiff-dicked _baalaku_ stand that? I've only been here a day and I'm already fittin' to find a tree to rub off on! That boy ain't changed a bit, has he?"

"Got one _likes_ it now," Narzum said, grinning. "Lets him do whatever he fancies. So he's a bit worse."

A round of high-pitched, near desperate sounding cries punctuated Narzum's pronouncement, and they heard Maukurz—a bit belatedly—growl "_Quiet_…" before obviously muffling her mouth.

Ghuribal sat still for another moment, a malicious grin on his face as his keen hearing and scent made up for what he was denied in sight. But when the half-breed behind the curtain groaned _Aww fuuuck!_ Ghuribal shook his head, put his hands under his shirt, and started fiddling about in his trousers.

"Damn!" Shatauz growled, sliding away from the little Orc. "Go outside or something!"

Ghuribal scrunched his face in contempt as he pulled a rather large flask out of his waistband. "Pervert," he huffed. "_You_ ain't gettin' none, you keep it up. Whut we's got here is genu-ine _akrum_, Mordor-style."

The little Orc popped the top and took a long swill. "Get yer lips around that, Boss," he said, passing the flask to Baiurz. "Takes a bite out the cold, it does."

The flask made it around twice before Maukurz stumbled out, taking a seat beside Narzum, and sighing in deep content. After a moment taken to recover himself, he looked about smartly, as if the others hadn't heard a thing. "What we doing?"

Narzum chuckled and said, "Smelt the liquor, he did."

"Pass it up," Maukurz said, extending his hand to Ghuribal.

"Eek! Think I don't know where that mouth's been! Go gargle some snow first."

"Don't play with me, _snaga._ I'm calm now, but that could change _real_ quick."

"You just got dick for days, dontcha?" Ghuribal asked. "Here. Though I don't think I wanna see you drunk."

"He's even more fun that way," Narzum sniped, biting his lip slowly as if he was remembering when he had the wolf-eyed Uruk's attention for himself.

Maukurz took a long sip of the fiery liquor, drawing a stiff breath through his sharp teeth to cool his burning mouth. "Nice. Been a while."

"You folks need to learn to make yer own drink. Master ain't here to cut yer meat for yuh no more, is he? You can make drink outta so _many_ things. Bread, honey, rotten fruit, potatoes… You can read, right Boss?"

Baiurz nodded. "Him too," he said, jerking a thumb towards Maukurz. "But only in Common."

"Good. Before I go, get me some charcoal and one o' yer hides, and I'll scribble out some of my best recipes. Go 'head, Captain, take another swig. Don't say no Orcs never did nothin' for yuh."

Maukurz drank gratefully, pleased as the warm glow of drunkenness worked quickly through his bones. "I s'pose you ain't that bad, Ghuribal. Least you ain't never did me too wrong."

"Bah… Old times, long ago. S'pose I wouldn't have done no different, wuz I in yer place."

"Maukurz knows how to kiss now, Ghuribal. You gonna show him how, Maukurz? Since we're bein' all squishy and sweet to each other?"

Narzum tried to get out of the way, but Maukurz caught him quickly around the waist, plowing the lanky Uruk to the floor. "Got a lot of _mouth_ today—" Maukurz growled, trying to pin Narzum's arms behind his back.

"You… outta know!" Narzum got a hold on Maukurz's leg, with plans to bend it behind the Uruk's head.

"Ay, cut it out!" Baiurz growled. " 'fore you roll right into the fire!"

"Yeah, take it outside!" Ghuribal echoed, feigning outrage. "Or behind the sheet, where it belongs!"

Shatauz laughed at Ghuribal, shaking his head.

Grinning, Maukurz froze on top of Narzum.

"Yeah?" Narzum asked.

"Fuck yeah," Maukurz replied, jumping to his feet. He clasped Narzum by the elbow and helped him up. "You're _done,_" Maukurz promised.

"We'll see!" Narzum darted around Maukurz, smacking the captain playfully on his rear before jumping into the high snow.

"Two sips says Narzum's gonna avenge my honor," Ghuribal said, nimbly hopping to the cave mouth, where he stood at the edge of shadow watching the big half-breeds toss each other into the snow, then lock in mock-combat, their thick grey bodies seemingly immune to the cold.

"I'll take you up on that one," Shatauz said, calling out into the snow, "And I fight the winner!"

"I'ma thrash you too!" Maukurz replied, gasping a quick breath of cold, snowy air, before charging and knocking Narzum off his feet again.

"What's going on?" Halla asked, stretching luxuriously before stepping beside Baiurz.

"Burnin' off some heat," Baiurz replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Shatauz had run out into the snow, and now all three Uruks were wrestling in the blizzard. The two grunts teamed up on Maukurz, plowing him into a high drift. Halla laughed as Maukurz pushed his way up from the snow; he tossed Narzum one way, grabbed Shatauz and threw him as well, then raised his arms in victory.

"Someone oughta kick his chipper ass," Ghuribal said.

"Commander!" Narzum called as Maukurz fell on him, pushing him face first into the snow. Laughing and gasping, Narzum looked up, spitting white. "You gonna help us out or what?"

"You should go, Baiurz!" Halla encouraged.

"Aww…" the old Uruk flushed. "Been quite a while, little lady. And this foot…"

"Come on!" Maukurz called, beckoning his Commander. "All _three_ of you against me!"

"Well, I suppose someone has to do it…" Baiurz grumbled, stepping out into the storm. He took a big, chest-raising gulp of air before jogging through the snow. Maukurz stood up, drunk and dizzy and laughing, getting his bearings once more.

"You ready, youngling?" Baiurz demanded.

"_Born_ ready!" Maukurz assured him. "Come get it!"

"He ain't lyin' about that," Ghuribal told Halla, slipping beside her. "By the way, Mistress Halla… Anyone ever tell you what nice hair you got? You know, I can style it for you—"

"Oh, no!" Halla said, hands in the air immediately. "I know _all_ about you! You're not putting your paws on this scalp!"

Ghuribal hissed through his teeth. "Calm down, calm down! I was just paying you a compliment! No harm in that!"

"I'm s_ure_ you were," Halla laughed. "Oh my, look at Baiurz!"

The Commander and the Captain were locked like two fighting dogs, growling and snarling and neither one giving any ground. For a long while they seemed evenly matched, but the Commander didn't earn his rank for nothing. Out of nowhere, faster than Halla could see, Baiurz got the upper hand, and unceremoniously dumped Maukurz on his back in the snow.

"Get him!" Narzum squealed giddily, running for Maukurz. "Get him while he's down!"

The Uruks fell into a free-for-all once more, with old Baiurz in true form, dominating the field.

"As it should be," Halla said happily. "It's good to see Baiurz enjoying himself."

"Yeah…" Ghuribal agreed, not having the slightest notion what she was saying as he crept closer, half-inch by half-inch. As Halla shouted encouragement to her lover, Ghuribal leaned precariously towards the white-skin, and enjoyed a long thorough sniffing of her shining blonde hair.

* * *

Edwyn halted his horse at the end of the lane, surprised to see Ailen and Blythe loading up a cart with Finnan's weapons and supplies for a journey. Finnan came out of his manor in his travelling cloak, ruffling his hounds between the ears before bounding down the stairs. Edwyn hadn't seen Finnan this energetic since before his mid-summer wedding. Now the first snow of the season swirled around the taller Man as he prepared for his adventure. "Where are you off to?" Edwyn asked lightly.

"King Elessar's calling up warriors to clear his dominion of Orcs," Finnan said, striding smoothly over to Edwyn and stroking the strong neck of Edwyn's red charger.

"I didn't know there were so many left in the world."

"Enough, apparently," Finnan said, darkness passing over his eyes. "At any rate, there are two commands, one out of Osgiliath and the other from Isengard. I'm getting as far from here as I can, Edwyn, to Osgiliath and beyond. I've rented a small house in Edoras and told everyone here that she's gone there… and everyone at court thinks she's got no liking for city life. Where she really is, only Bema knows, but I'll tell you one thing… If she's gone South with her dirty black-blooded paramour, and we attack their settlement, I won't speak up on her behalf. I won't even know her."

Edwyn's lip curled before he could freeze his face in a mask of politeness. Fortunately, Finnan didn't see his former lover's contempt. "Is this a large operation? Is our King aware that Men of Gondor will be hunting Orcs from Isengard?"

"I'm certain he is," Finnan replied. "There are complaints in the north of Orcish raids, and Uruk sightings as well, which is part of the reason the King of Gondor has sent soldiers here. I've given my new steward instruction to allow them free passage over my land, and such provisions as they might need."

_Are they still here?_ Edwyn wondered. _Or will they be out on the open road, easily caught by Gondor's soldiers? Most likely, their still hiding in the mountains. No matter what, I suppose, they don't have long. I wonder if she realizes how much more viciously he'll be killed, if he's found with her and worse, a belly on her or a half-breed baby in her arms! _

"They won't see much action from Isengard this winter," Edwyn said carefully. "Not with the mountains hemming them in on two sides."

Ailen brought around Finnan's horse then, and the lord climbed gracefully into his saddle. "I know that," Finnan said, a true smile on his face like Edwyn hadn't seen in months. "Which is why I'm going to the South. I'll see action all winter long."

"Well if that's what you want…"

"It is. You know I can't stand it here. Nevermind the whore, I haven't felt right since the War ended."

Edwyn nodded grimly. "Good, then. Do what makes you happiest. You always were a fine warrior."

Finnan wheeled his horse around. "I will write to you when I can. When it's appropriate."

"I'll stay here," Edwyn suggested, just as Finnan went to spur his horse. "I'll keep an eye on your new steward. See that he isn't robbing you, you know. Keep your dogs in shape."

Finnan arched a brow suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not? I've nowhere else to be. I'm utterly useless at home, as you know."

"You think she'll come back," Finnan said.

"Well…" Edwyn replied quickly, "You said you'd take her back, and at least things will look better for you, and you won't have to worry what everyone thinks. But if she doesn't come, you'll know you have someone with a mind looking out for your interests."

"Fine. Thank you." Finnan closed his eyes, sighing uncomfortably. He watched as Blythe and Ailen walked off, and took care to measure the steps of the carter as he picked up his whip and headed towards the cart. At the right moment, he said quietly, "When I return… maybe we can… put things right. Between us."

Edwyn nodded, though there was a good deal he'd found he couldn't abide about Finnan in the past few months, his constant hiding just one thing. Much would have to be resolved… if it ever could be. He watched Finnan trot down the lane ahead of the cart, his head high and proud, his shoulders broad, his curls streaming behind him. For a moment, Edwyn longed to gallop to his side, to ride off together towards danger and glory. Then he looked up to the snowy mountains, turning his mind to the task at hand: keeping that silly girl safe, and her refugee lover in a peaceable frame of mind so he didn't destroy himself when the soldiers came, and poor Halla with him.


	30. Chapter 30

The weather broke two days later, but Halla's health seemed to go with the storm. Once again she felt sapped of all energy, and she got sick until she cried. On the following day she began to shiver uncontrollably, unable to get warm. As much as he wanted privacy for Halla, by dusk Maukurz carried her out to the fire, wrapped her in fur and held her against his chest. Ghuribal looked on for a while, perplexed by the care shown by Maukurz to the white-skin. She _was_ quite fine looking, for a _sharlob_. And frisky, who'd have thought it? But fine looking indeed, with hands as soft as the Master's. At that moment, Ghuribal decided he'd had enough. He stood up, tucked his empty flask into his trousers, and bowed with a flourish.

"Think I'll be movin' on now," Ghuribal said. "Yuh got the recipes there. If I ever see yuh again, you folks can get _me_ drunk. But I'm outta _akrum_, and I'd better break for north while those tenderfoot _tarks_ are huddled by their fires."

"Snows come fast, Ghuribal," Baiurz warned. "You sure you wanna go now?"

Ghuribal snorted, looking down on the girl, a pretty ivory-peach face gone chalky and shadowed with whelping: it was a sight he'd seen once or twice, the rare time he had some business on Isengard's lowest levels. Except for the remarkable fact that she wasn't chained or locked up, and she wasn't running or trying to kill herself, but nestled asleep in the Uruk's lap. "Yuh got yerself a high-born one here. Nice little peach meant fer a Rider, no doubt," Ghuribal said, his long arms settling on his fists. "And plucked by _that_ one! Stinkin' all over from _his_ musk, belly full o'his whelp, and she come to it on her own. _Nar_, I ain't stayin' here to watch what her kin do to you. Good luck, though!"

"They ain't _finding_ us," Maukurz said firmly. He glared at Ghuribal for a long moment, and then he let Isengard, and all its uselessness in his present life, slip away. "Shatauz, lean over and get a couple strips of dried meat from the pit. For Ghuribal's trip." Maukurz looked up at the little Orc once more. "Makes us 'bout even for the drink."

"Obliged, Captain," Ghuribal said, taking the meat. "Commander. All o'you. You all ain't such a bad lot, for half-breeds. Come North, when you can."

With that, the little Orc slipped into the twilight, and began his hard run into the northlands.

* * *

Ailith stood in her best dress, a deep blue gown of soft wool lined with black rabbit fur. It was her only extravagance, from the money Halla had given her, and only because she felt she should wear something fine to open her tavern. It was the evening, and her brother and Blythe were on hand to help her. She'd also hired a staff: three women servers, and a cook. Ailith's desire for prosperity reflected the growing village of High Meadow, where lumber money was generous and even as the winter came in, there was enough to go around. Lord Birchleigh would not charge rents until the following year… and many of those saved pennies would pour into Ailith's coffers. The villagers, who had looked at her with deep suspicion and disdain, grudgingly admitted that the young woman had gumption, her building looked good, and her food and drink were more than satisfactory.

"You'll be seeing some outside money soon," Maybel told her. The middle-aged head logger's wife—the unofficial leader of all High Meadow's female life—nodded in approval as she looked at great mass of Men filling the long tables and laughing over their pints. "Brew a fine ale here, Miss Ailith. And a good mead too. It's good to have you."

Ailith wouldn't let her pleasure show on her face. She looked across the hall, at her guests. Some were already singing. Roasts were flying about on trays carried by smiling young women, each one worth a pretty sum. As she thought, the pork ribs were popular as well. Ailith thought she might need more servers.

She looked across the room, knowing that Harlan was watching her. And sure enough he was at a table with several journeymen, enjoying his ale, his eyes searching across the room for her every few moments. Ailith gave him a small smile; she thought she couldn't have succeeded without him.

But it was more than that, and Ailith had no idea what to do. She thought that after she'd so boldly told him all that was wrong with her, he'd wake up and forget her. Every day she had waited to hear news that the eligible carpenter, building a sturdy house of stone that was surely too big for a bachelor, had married a young maiden from High Meadow or Birchleigh. During the War it had seemed that so many were violated… but now, looking about, Ailith felt that the War had happened to her alone. There were several lasses here tonight with their families, shining laughing girls with ribbons in their long, loose hair. Girls whose families had sent them to Edoras or the Eastmark to weather the storm, and now returned like roses to a barren winter field with red cheek and smooth, petal soft skin. Girls like Halla, who had been sent to family _away_, or otherwise _protected_, thus had been spared a good part of the horror.

There were likely some other women, violated like Ailith, who had managed to conceal it. In the chaos of a raid, who could know what misery fell on another? There had been fire, and screaming, and death, many bodies dragged screaming to some gruesome fate. Many-especially the younger women and girls-died outright during or after the assault. Those women lucky enough not to be pregnant might have had sympathetic husbands. They might have been widows already. They might have killed themselves, as a good number had. Every so often Ailith thought she saw a commiserating expression, a shuttering glance full of memories that said, _me too_. But she was the only one who lived in the area who had gotten pregnant, and not managed to be rid of it properly. She was the only one who had needed the midwife, a woman who'd blanched at the sight of clawed and bitten hips and thighs. She was the only one with the stubborn desire to keep living, when good sense told her she ought to hang herself and reclaim some ghost of her honor…

_Stop it. I will not think of it. Not tonight, of all nights!_

It was a long night, but a profitable one, garnering Ailith a pound in silver coin alone, an amount that would take her months to put away. She lingered for a while after closing, after the last dishes were washed and stacked neatly on the shelves Harlan had made her, and the servers and cook had gone home. Still, there was a customer sitting in the corner, drinking his ale. Ailith took off the apron she'd worn to clean up, washed and dried her hands, and ventured to the table.

Edwyn met her with a warm smile. "A fine job you've done here, Mistress Ailith. Lord Birchleigh would be glad to see it, if he'd not gone off to fight Orcs for Gondor."

Ailith frowned, furrowing her smooth brow and wondering how to ask.

"I've not seen her in two months," Edwyn said, guessing easily. "But I suppose she's well enough. The last time I saw her… she'd recovered her smile, at least."

"Two _months_," Ailith sighed. "You couldn't know how she is now, my lord. The… the beast might likely have turned on her. And if she's well now… _if_… She won't be in a few months." Ailith paused, and folded her hands over her belly. "I… I went early. Seven months or so. It would be best for her if it happened that way… and better if she lost it sooner. Seven months… and it was… it was quite full-sized. I just can't help it, my lord… I think of her often, even if I don't want to. I wouldn't be here tonight, if it wasn't for Lady Birchleigh. And yet… she repulses me. Is that wrong of me, to think of my lady, who helped me, with such disgust? And then to worry so much for her? It makes no sense at all."

"I think many would share your sentiment… the disgust, that is. Not likely the concern."

"But _you_ are not disgusted," Ailith said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "As a Man… How is it that you are not repulsed by her and what she's done?"

"Ah… Well… I would love to tell you that all Men think like me. But I fear I am quite wrong-headed. I think Halla is foolish, but am I repulsed by her? No, not at all. I think she's found what happiness she could, and it's not my place to condemn her."

"But you would not…" Ailith flushed, staring at the tips of her shiny black boots. "You would not _marry _her, knowing where she's… _been._"

Edwyn laughed, and Ailith had no idea why. She shifted her weight on her small booted feet, ashamed. But the handsome nobleman softened and said, almost tenderly, "If I was of a mind to marry a lady, and that one was free, I think she and I would get on well enough together." For a moment, Edwyn thought of that obscene, thrilling, self-aware light in the Uruk's eyes; he recalled the easy, comfortable swagger of the Uruk's thick, well built body. On his fifth pint and feeling it, Edwyn bit his tongue before wondering aloud if anyone else _could_ satisfy Halla, after such a lover as Maukurz. Ailith did _not_ need to hear Edwyn expounding on the sexual fitness of Halla's Uruk… Edwyn wasn't quite sure he could endure his own thoughts in that respect! _Maukurz has__ danced quite a few times with the boys, I'd wager, Uruk or otherwise, _Edwyn thought with treasonous mischief. That slow, feral smile as Maukurz somehow read Edwyn's astonished appreciation for his body smacked of the refugee's experience in _that_ respect.

"My lord?"

Edwyn blinked. "Forgive me, Mistress. To answer your question honestly: I would have no hesitations, if I wanted a wife, concerning where she'd been before me. My only concern would be how well she loved me _now._"

"But—" Ailith's eyes filled with tears. "You would not be… repulsed? To know she'd been… she'd been used… by _them?_"

_Dear Bema, she's speaking of herself!_ Edwyn realized belatedly. "Darling… Are you wishing to be married now?"

"Of course not," she said quickly, words all jumbled. "I wouldn't dream of it. I've been blessed enough, far more than I deserve."

Edwyn drained his mug and stood up. He looked at Ailith carefully, and though his eyes were slightly blurred by drink he pronounced, "Kind women deserve everything they want, Ailith. A tavern, a husband, a quiverfull of strong sons. Don't limit yourself, darling. There will be enough people who try to do that for you; why do it to yourself?"

"For decency?" Ailith asked, sweeping his mug into her hands. Since the wash water had already been dumped, she decided to take it home for cleaning, but wound up setting it to the side, abnormally forgetful with such thoughts on her mind.

Edwyn shook his head. "Anyone who would be offended by the marriage of a beautiful hard-working woman is a fool, and perhaps wicked as well, and so not worth the time you'd take to consider them."

Ailith, unaccustomed to compliments, couldn't help a small smile. "Well… perhaps a nobleman can afford such freedom…"

Her words made him think of Finnan, floundering in the struggle to balance his own desires with the responsibilities of his station. "You might be surprised about that, sweeting. I think if you want something in this world, you have to take it, and make it work for you. Come now, let me walk you home. I've had a few too many, and my bed beckons."

"All right," Ailith said. "Thank you, my lord…"

Edwyn waited while Ailith extinguished the lamps, and then together they stepped into the night. Ailith turned around, looking happily at her tavern. "I can hardly believe it…"

"You'll do well, Mistress Ailith. And I'll be sure to spread the word around to _my_ friends about your fine food and drink."

"Thank you, my lord!" she said again, thrilled by the prospect of noble custom. She turned, and then froze.

Harlan was standing behind her, frowning a little to see Edwyn with Ailith. The nobleman was a slight too pretty for Harlan's comfort. But the lord merely looked to Ailith, arching a neat eyebrow in some odd sort of comradery. Ailith nodded tightly, biting her lip over her small smile. _He came to see me… even after what I said, he came to see me…_

She tried to remind herself that words could not express how ruined she felt she was. And she tried _not_ to be glad to see him, but it was impossible. Harlan's blue eyes were bright with pleasure, and the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful, even if she was sure her looks had been destroyed.

"I'll leave Mistress Ailith in your care, Harlan. And bid you both a good night," Edwyn bowed his head, looking at Ailith pointedly before walking unsteadily into the darkness.

"You were incredible tonight," Harlan said quietly, once the nobleman had gone.

"I could never have done it without you. Never."

A slow, sweet smile crossed Harlan's face with Ailith's recognition of his hard work. "You… look incredible as well," he told her.

Ailith flushed, wondering why her heart galloped away like some wild thing. "Thank you. It's a new dress…"

"It's not the dress, Ailith." Harlan said, growing ever more serious. "Have you given any thought to what I asked you?"

Ailith shut her eyes tightly. It felt so _good_ to have him come to see her this way; it was so wonderful to have his eyes on her making her feel—just for a moment—like a beautiful, desirable woman. "I think of it all the time," Ailith admitted. "But…"

Harlan stepped towards her boldly, hesitating only a breath before he put his arms carefully around her waist. She was stiff and tight in his arms, her eyes wide, and he was afraid she'd bolt, or simply disappear, like some mystical maiden out of a legend. "Don't say anymore," he pleaded in a whisper, before she refused him again. "It is a beautiful night, crisp and clear and full of stars. Won't you just walk with me a while? Let me see you safely home?"

"Oh... Oh, I want to…!" Ailith admitted finally. "I want to… But you'll leave me, you'll listen to all those village biddies, you'll decide you want someone—someone _unspoiled_—and it will be all the worse for me for having dreamed of it at all—"

Harlan cut her off by taking her face gently in his hands. He could feel the young woman trembling, and her eyes went wide and fearful as he kissed her softly on the lips. He drew back, deadly serious as he said, "I love you, Ailith. I don't think any of those cruel things about you, and I'd take anyone to task who said them! But I don't expect you to be perfect, either. Just your beautiful, steady-minded self. I love you—I _want_ to love you—just as you are. I want you for my wife, Ailith, and I'm willing to wait… As long as it takes until you can trust that I love you, and I won't let you down."

She blinked away her tears, forbidding them to fall. "It's so hard to trust, Harlan. I don't know if I _can._"

"Just walk with me," he said, smiling gently. "No more, no less."

"All right," she whispered, hardly daring to speak too loud. She thought that indeed she might be dreaming, and if she was, she never wanted to wake again. Harlan offered her his hand, and she took it carefully, and together they walked off under the stars.

* * *

From the moment Finnan entered Osligiath, he felt like a different person.

Like Minas Tirith, Osgiliath was a city of stone. When he'd last seen it from across the battlefield, it had been a ruined place, a strong hold of the Enemy and crawling with Orcs. Now Osigiliath had come to life again. Giant crowds roamed the streets, between impromptu fair days and re-established markets making up for lost business. And from everywhere came the clanging of chisels and cries of foremen, echoing off the newest, rising, famed Gondorian towers. Finnan savored the feeling of being a stranger in a foreign land: no one knew him, and he owed no one a thing, save the commander he had signed up with. Even here, he fought for pay, and was free to take his twenty-five and go, or even leave them to fight and take his fee. But Finnan was in it for the mission, not the pay. When the cold, damp wind blew into his face, Finnan smiled at the taste of freedom, and found himself eager to ride on to the center city square, where King Elessar's Orc Hunters were proudly mustering.

After meeting Adanaer, the commander, Finnan and Haldren stabled their horses, sent their hired men to join the growing company of footsoldiers, and went off to have a meal in a recommended tavern. Haldren had arrived a few days prior to Finnan, and was glad to share information.

"We'll be riding with a company of one hundred into the Ash Mountains. The place is rather horrific, so I hear, all blasted with soot and ash and black rock from the bursting of Mount Doom. We'll have to carry rations, that means."

"And the Orcs?" Finnan asked, tucking into his stewed chicken. "Where is their main force?"

"Ahh… we've some targets, but there's no _force_ per se. You remember the last battle, how they scattered?"

Finnan nodded. The memory was, at the moment, a quite satisfactory one. Filthy cowards. Filthy _whore_, taking it from a filthy coward!

"Well, the Orcs haven't rebanded into any army worth the name. We'll be on the alert for hit and run attacks, but mostly what we're looking for, as I may have mentioned, are settlements. Lord Adanaer tell me that there were entire… um… _clans_, I believe, kin-groups if you can believe it, dwelling in and around Mordor. What we don't need-what King Elessar forbids-is Orcs settling in the range of Mordor and multiplying. So that is our mission: to eliminate them, all of them."

Finnan frowned, his knife suspended in the air. "For some reason, I never think of them… Well, making _more_, you understand. The idea of Orc _females_…!"

Haldren chuckled. "Don't worry, likely you won't know the difference. If it bleeds black and it moves, then it dies; that's the order. I hope you won't have a problem with that…"

Finnan snorted, cutting into his meat. "Of course not. Preposterous. An Orc is an Orc, and I can only hope that my sword will help put an end to their accursed kind once and for all."


	31. Chapter 31

"_Skai,_ how beautiful _are_ you?" Maukurz whispered. He held his weight carefully on his knees—which freed his hips and back up quite nicely—while running a finger over the delicate, lovely bones in Halla's face. "You _giving_ me _Baby?"_ Maukurz asked, endlessly amazed.

Halla could hardly open her eyes. Her head was tilted back, and she sighed when his mouth moved down her graceful neck. She could never know when a soft kiss would turn intense, piercing, shocking her all the way down her spine and intensifying the delicious invasion. Now at mid-winter, with her belly rising, her Uruk lover was entranced. His big, strong hands smoothed over the hard roundness where his baby grew, and he couldn't help grinning and laughing with breathless excitement. _It ain't supposed to happen for me like this_, he'd recently confessed. Life was hard in the snow-locked cave, but Halla lived in the bliss of the adored.

That the pregnancy was so hard on her body managed to be rather unimportant. Maukurz took complete care of her. She ate plenty meat, even fresh meat, because he would dig his way through the high snows to hunt for her. Maukurz wanted nothing more from her but for her to love him when he came to her, which was easy and pleasing. When she washed, the Uruk-hai Captain often took the washrag from her and wrung it out, then ran it over her limbs with reverent tenderness. Halla watched his face carefully then. _You were so lonely there,_ she said one night, interrupting the warm silence. Maukurz had lowered his gaze and thought about it, then nodded his head._ But I'd never have known it,_ he admitted. _Not until I had you. Now I could never go back. _

Now he tightened his hold on her, closed his eyes and lost awareness of things outside of them for a while. Maukurz could be drowned by everything he sensed and felt at this moment. Her scent—body and hair and arousal—was one thing, the sight of her lovely face flushed with pleasure from him another. Feelings, most of all, as he came inside her… but thoughts too. _If I have her forever, I'll never tire. _

But withdrawing, he smelled blood. He looked carefully at Halla's face: her lips quivered a little, and she had to catch her breath… but her bright blue eyes were hard and shining, and her sigh was one of content. She had no pain. Maukurz lay beside her and drew her into his arms, as if nothing was wrong. At the same time, he cast his eyes down their entangled bodies… and saw a smear of red on his belly, his cock… and blood on the insides of her thighs. His body tensed fearfully. Maukurz closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that he'd had more good luck than anyone he knew, and likely a whole heap more than he deserved. Surely sometime it would run out. This was followed by a horrific thought, and his body cramped up in gut terror, as he wondered if he'd managed to kill Baby by fucking Halla. If he'd managed—after being so fucking _careful_—to kill _her_ finally with his endless lust.

"You're bleeding Halla," he said quietly, trying to stay calm for her sake.

"What?"

Alarmed, Halla looked at the blood on her thighs. She jumped up, kneeling with her arms around her belly and horror on her face. _Am I losing Baby?_ "But I feel no pain," she cried quietly. "If I was losing him, wouldn't it hurt?"

"I don't—I don't know—" Maukurz felt terribly helpless all of a sudden, helpless and ignorant and _desperate_ for Halla and Baby to be well. She was looking to him with such fear; he was supposed to fix it for her, but how? "Lie down," he said, taking her in his arms and lowering her to the furs. It seemed a reasonable thing to do. When hurt, rest; when bleeding, stay calm and quiet. But was there truly _nothing_ more he could do? Maukurz stared wretchedly at Halla, a creature so lovely and beautiful she might have been from a fever dream, and she'd given herself gladly to _him_. And he had imagined Baby so often it felt like he knew the little one already. Nothing in his short life had prepared Maukurz to face such a painful loss as threatened now, both the woman and the baby.

Halla was crying. Maukurz sat beside her, brushing her tears away. His lay his warm hand on her little round belly, willing his strength into his tiny little whelp. He watched Halla's body with feverish intensity, waiting for Baby to come out of her in a rush of red and black blood. But after a while, he realized her bleeding had stopped, and Maukurz felt intense gratitude. _But does that mean Baby lives still? If only there was some way to know for sure! _Maukurz lay down again, drawing Halla close and kissing her teary cheeks. They stared at each other with naked eyes, finally seeing just how foolish and rash they had been. Who could know what the consequences would be now? Having a baby was a desperate frightening thing and he was powerless in it. The Uruk wrapped his arms around his woman, ran his hands through her pale messy hair and pulled her fine face to his. He stroked her cheeks and kissed her mouth, and when she finally fell asleep he stayed, holding her, committing every part of her to memory, because he thought that no matter what his intentions _had_ been—or become—towards the beautiful little female, surely he had killed her all the same.

* * *

Finnan pulled his kerchief over his mouth and nose. This part had always been distasteful, but the bodies needed burning. It had felt good to join full battle, though, after a month of killing stragglers. Haldren had gotten information out of one of those stragglers, which led them to a large camp in a remote, craggy pocket of mountain. They hit it at daybreak, just as the Orcs were settling into sleep under the shabby three-sided tents, some made from their own ragged cloaks.

Finnan had set himself against a thick knot of large, black Orcs, who reminded him of the Uruks of his home, and thus were the best target for his rage. They had fought desperately, but some had lacked even weapons and had to parry Finnan's steal with rudely constructed clubs. Yet they were vicious all the same, perhaps more-so for the new light of hunger in their eyes. Finnan had lost his senses for battle fever, a thing he'd not felt since being so surrounded at the Black Gate.

"Give you a hand," a knight from Gondor said, his words muffled by his own kerchief. The blaze had been lit, and Finnan stooped to grab the legs of one of those big Uruk-looking monsters. Together with the Gondor lad, Finnan carried the Orc to the rising inferno, towards the hot-burning pyre reeking of melting flesh and fat. They tossed him into the devouring flames, on a pile of his fallen brothers—if Orcs could be said to have such things as brothers!

Work went far faster with help, and Finnan thought he'd gotten most of his vanquished opponents into the flames. Still, there were many more bodies.

Now the rancid smoke stung at Finnan's eyes, blurring his vision. Blinking tears, he watched as the Gondor knight seized a pair of brown arms and began to drag another body along the ground. Finnan bent to grab the ankles—and blinked again, in shock, as the Orc's crudely wrapped clothing tore away, revealing a large pair of breasts and the soft, rounded belly that Finnan's mind immediately associated with a pregnant woman. The young Man from Gondor grunted slightly. Again, they swung and heaved, and Finnan was spared the thoughts forming in his mind as the pregnant Orc flew into the fire, to be forgotten.

On the next body, Finnan grit his jaw. This one was quite obviously female, even if her head was all but severed, and she was face-down. She had a plump, rounded backside; long, thick black braids; and soft, slender limbs. "Up!" the Gondor knight said, lifting the arms. They carried the dead Orcess only a few strides before some part of her fell to the ground, just before Finnan's feet.

It was a baby, fallen from her unraveling cloth sling.

"Shit!" Finnan spat, stumbling in horror to avoid stepping on the little thing.

"Don't even look, brother," the Gondor lad warned, but it was too late. Finnan had seen too much, seen the plump black baby who seemed to have taken no other injury but being crushed to death beneath its mother when she fell.

"They aren't _human_," the Gondor knight said firmly. "Would have just grown up to be one of those big black bulls. Better to kill it now, before it can do harm."

Finnan wanted to agree, but found that his throat was closed and his tongue was thick. By the time he opened his mouth to _try_ to speak, a hard wind blew, and even through the kerchief the thick, fatty smoke assaulted his lips and tongue. Bile rose quickly, and Finnan manfully denied it. But by the time they returned to the corpses, someone, he saw, had taken the baby and tossed it carelessly onto the pyre.


	32. Chapter 32

Halla sat by the fire, slowly and carefully sewing the lovely soft, curling ram's wool into a buckskin swaddling blanket. She tried not to think of anything more than her stitches, but soon Narzum came and sat beside her, offering her water.

Narzum waited for her to drink, and thank him. He asked her quietly, before her needle could pierce the leather again, "What's going on, Halla? I've never seen Maukurz so quiet and miserable. I've never… well, never known you two not to be like happy little jackrabbits. So something's _real_ wrong."

Halla swallowed tears. "I don't know what's going on," she said quietly, sewing again. "I don't know if Baby's sick or well, I don't know how this will end… And as for the other thing… he doesn't want to hurt me. He thinks he hurt me, and Baby."

"He didn't?"

She looked to him, stricken, fear all about her. "I don't _know._ There was blood. Not a lot, but enough to scare us both. It stopped… But I have no way of knowing if… if my baby died."

Narzum sucked his teeth softly, not sure if he should talk to her honestly. He decided to chance it, as it seemed wrong to hold back from her. "I didn't know you _could_ have his baby like this, Halla. I was a whole lot of surprised when you came here, already breeding. But Shatauz said you know someone who had an Uruk's baby outside the Tower, without the wizard. So if this other _sharlob_ did it, wouldn't you be able to?"

Halla shrugged lightly, and wiped a tear away. "I do know a woman... But she would have had help, and I'm here alone."

"How can we help?"

"You _can't_, Narzum, and I wouldn't know what to tell you to do anyway. I've never even seen a woman have a baby. I've seen a horse, not that it's any help at all."

"You know what to do with a baby once it's here? Maukurz says he's gonna be tiny, like one of your kind's biddy little whelps."

"Yes… He will be small, and I can care for him. That much, I think, I can do well. Keep him clean and fed and loved. But… Well, there's two ways to look at it. One is that women have had babies forever, and surely some have done it without help. Surely this is the way our bodies are meant to work, even if it is quite dangerous for us. The other way… is that women die all the time, and so do babies, and of course… How much harder will his baby be? How much bigger? I don't rightly know. I suppose I just _hoped_ everything would be all right. I suppose… I was just so amazed by how… how I felt with Maukurz, even just talking to him…" She shook her head, shutting her eyes at her own foolishness. "I did _try_ not to get pregnant, but once I was, things happened so fast where I lived, I was just so _glad_ to get away! Am I so stupid? I might die now."

"Don't do that," Narzum said, making a face. "You'll mess him up good if you die, believe me. What about this woman you know, who knows about having Uruk whelps? Maybe Baiurz would understand if you needed her to come up here. She a friend? Keep her mouth shut about us, and help you get Baby out?"

"I don't think so," Halla said, shaking her head, tying the the sinew thread and biting it off. She held the finished blanket up critically, and decided it would do nicely to keep Baby warm. If he had not died. There was no way to know. Halla sighed, folding the swaddling blanket and setting it on her lap. "Narzum… that woman hates me, and she's hard as nails. If I died having Baby she'd call it just what I earned. Besides, she didn't have her own babe willingly, as I'm sure you can understand. Even if she _would_ help me, it'd be like me sticking needles in her eyes."

"And you wouldn't stick needles in someone's eyes to save yourself?" Narzum asked, gazing at her as if she was the most peculiar thing he'd ever seen.

Halla managed a small smile. "I don't have the right to ask it of her, Narzum. And she'd tell on us besides. She told on me already."

"Told about us?" Narzum asked urgently. "Maukurz never said anything about that!"

"She doesn't have any idea you all are here. What she knows is that I met Maukurz in the woods, and that… Well, she caught us together." Halla grimaced at the memory. "I don't even like to think about her," she admitted softly. "I don't like to think about any women who you—who you all—in the War. But especially not _her._ No, I wouldn't want her delivering Baby. Not at all."

Narzum was regarding her with sad eyes. The Uruks, Halla had learned, could play deceitful with each other, but usually their emotions were all over their faces. Especially Maukurz, with his vivid golden eyes. And now Narzum most certainly thought Halla and Baby were goners. "You'll be fine," he lied. "You have to be. It would be real fucked up of you to come up here all shining and pretty, promising us a future, and then to just go and die on us. So don't be so fucking selfish, eh?"

Halla laughed softly through tears. "I'll do my best."

Maukurz came in a moment later, a thin deer over his shoulders. He was followed by the two other Uruks who had arms full of wet wood that they dumped by the fire. Maukurz slipped the deer down to the ground, and came to kneel beside Halla, his eyes to the floor guiltily. "You feelin' better now?"

Halla nodded, and closed her eyes as he brushed his mouth over hers, then held her for a moment, breathing her in. "I finished another blanket," she told him. "Baby will be warm when he comes."

She heard his breath catch in her ear, felt him nod against her neck. Halla tightened her arms around Maukurz. "You didn't _do_ anything wrong…" she told him, but his hard, tense body told her he wasn't forgiving himself.

When he pulled away, Narzum said, "Gotta talk to you, big brother."

"Sure. Later." Maukurz lifted Halla carefully, and carried her back to their bed. He lit several candles and banked earth around them, then disappeared around the sheet for a few long moments, returning with her plate full of the raw organ meat that he pressed on her each time he hunted. As disgusted as Halla felt eating it, she knew almost instantly that her body, and the baby, craved this.

Halla felt that her appetite was a good sign. Maukurz brought her steak cooked as she liked it next, and they ate quietly together. It was strange, now, that he—so suddenly—wouldn't sleep with her. She could see that he wanted her, she could feel him hard against her in the mornings especially, but he was denying himself _any_ form of pleasure with her. After their passionate beginning, Halla missed the intimacy. She understood why, of course, and that she'd not bled again, it was obviously sensible to do.

Yet at the same time as she was fearful for Baby's health and safety, she was terrified for herself. She needed the reassurance of his touch, and when he looked at her, Halla knew it was the same for him. They came together without words, kissing softly until Halla ran her hands up under his kilt, grabbing his hard cock. "I could kiss it…" she whispered.

Maukurz tightened up, pulling away from her. "No. Not a good idea right now."

"But I _miss_ you…" Halla pleaded.

He closed his eyes, let himself rest against her for a moment. Then he pulled away and sat behind her, and with shaking hands undid the laces of her worn, tearing dress. Halla closed her eyes to feel Maukurz's hands smoothing over her shoulders and back; she thought she might expect what he would do, which, she thought, was surely no danger…

But Maukurz instead gently pushed her long hair over her shoulders. His strong hands gripped softly on her back, massaging her carefully the way she'd once done it for him. Halla sighed, relaxing easily in his hands.

"I don't want to lose you," he told her quietly as he worked the tension out of her back. "I don't want to lose Baby. I don't care what it costs me. You don't know… I've… I can hurt you, Halla. And seeing you hurt… It made me remember things that I found out I'd rather forget. Only this time it's _you…_"

"But there's other things we can do…"

"I know that," he said, laughing softly, brushing her hair away and nipping her neck lightly. "I taught _you_, remember? But see… I ain't gonna die from givin' my cock a rest for once, you know? And I do want to do… all those things… with you. But I gotta get that picture out of my head first: you hurt and bleeding, because of me. I want you for life, Halla. Not just to fuck. I gotta see you well before I can see myself on top of you… And I don't know _how_ to make you well. All I know how to do is fuck you up: get you pregnant when you didn't want to be, and make you bleed."

"Maukurz…" she breathed, tears in her eyes. "That's not true."

"Shh, Halla, no. Don't tell me it ain't true when it is. I know what the fuck I am. Just come close, and let me hold you, and let that be enough for now."

* * *

In the middle of February the sap began to flow, and the weather on the plains beneath the mountains broke fair. Edwyn shut the bedroom window, and had his manservant ready one of his better riding outfits. The next day, and the day after, he did the same. On the following foggy morning, Edwyn saw a party of soldiers trotting down the lane. He returned to the hall and took a seat by the fire, a journal of Finnan's herd in his hands, which blurred his hungover eyes but looked suitable enough. Soon enough, a captain of Gondor knocked on the door, accompanied by an older, veteran rider with a long scar through his left cheek that twitched his mouth in an angry-looking manner.

"Lord Birchleigh?" the Rider asked.

Edwyn smiled courteously, rising from his chair. "I am Edwyn son of Edric the Tall, veteran captain of the Eastmark. Birchleigh is as a brother to me, and I am looking after his interests while he serves King Elessar in the Southlands."

The Rider grimaced, obviously his smile. "I know Edric the Tall. My name is Gerard of Colton. We fought together as younger Men. Now I hunt Orcs to keep fit. How does your father?"

"Very well, thank you," Edwyn said, neverminding his father's gout and rheumatism. "Have you broken your fast yet? And your Men?"

"We're on official business," the Gondorian responded, before Gerard could speak. "We as well serve the King of Men, and we are to respond to reported sightings of Orcs in this region. Lord Birchleigh holds lands around the mountains, and we are required to inform him that we will be crossing his lands, and at times camping on them, as we execute our mission."

"Orcs here?" Edwyn asked, shaking his head. "Not anymore. We had a few—oh, perhaps five of various ragged sorts—attempting passage in the summertime. We dealt with it. Have you communicated with Marshall Erkenbrand at all? He might reassure you that this area is safe. Even the louts from Dunland have been quiet."

"Runners from Dunland brought word to our scouts before the first snows came that they'd captured and killed an Uruk," Gerard told Edwyn. "Said it had menaced one of their women. You might let the new villagers by the mountain know."

Edwyn frowned slightly.

"Master Edwyn," the Gondorian said, "We don't anticipate much trouble in this area. The Uruks were mostly destroyed, and much of the rabble of Mordor have scattered into the southern mountain ranges. But we believe a fair number of that kind is attempting to reach the wild lands in the north. There have been incidents not so far to the north of here, gruesome incidents. So we would occupy this land, for a time, from Isengard, in the name of King Elessar. We will organize regular roaming patrols. We understand Birchleigh has a logging operation underway, resuming in the spring, and we don't mean to interfere with his affairs. We'll not graze our horses overmuch on his land, should we need to camp nearby. We are authorized to do so regardless, but we have come to serve warning."

Gerard grimaced—a true grimace this time—at the clipped tone of the officer from Gondor. Edwyn pinched his lips slightly, regarding the captain coolly.

"You will let me know if I can be of further assistance," Edwyn replied, walking towards the door.

"We shall, Master Edwyn. Good day."

"A blessing on your father, young master," Gerard said politely, and the two turned to leave.

Edwyn sat down by the fire, gazing on the two hounds sleeping comfortably. "Wake up, lazy mutts. You've some trees to piss on."

* * *

The hounds whined and ran out of the thick pine grove. A moment later Halla's Uruk came walking out of the darkness behind them, his gold eyes flickering about for an ambush. He was warmly dressed this time, in patchy buckskin trousers and a heavy fur-lined tunic. His long black hair was braided down his back. There was something distinctly different him, too. Edwyn might have thought he looked older. No… he looked as if he was burdened with care for the very first time, maybe more even than Edwyn had ever been.

But Maukurz was reluctant, too. Untrusting, creeping through the snow. He could have sprung into action in a moment.

Edwyn, whose feet were frozen after a spending most of the day letting the dogs stink up a good part of the mountain, showed Maukurz his empty hands.

Maukurz stopped before the trim neat looking warrior of Rohan. "What do you want?"

"To let you know there are soldiers coming soon. I doubt they'll go high into the mountains, but they'll be doing regular patrols. You'll want to watch for them, so that you can know when to expect them. And of course, you should always be wary. Extremely wary, especially as the weather warms. And move as high as you can."

"I've heard of them. Thank you, though. I will be careful."

Edwyn nodded. "Is she well?"

Maukurz sighed deeply. "Better now." Then the Uruk smiled such a small but tender smile that Edwyn was shaken. "Baby moves, kicks her, kicks my hands. For a while we thought we'd lost him. But he is strong, and big! I wonder, though… if Baby's not getting _too_ big. I have no idea, and it's... it's bad trouble for us."

"Yes," Edwyn said with quiet empathy. "I don't suppose you would have any idea about it. My mother used to terrify me when she was pregnant with my younger sisters. I thought she might burst in two. But everything worked out fine, most of the time. Now, Halla isn't due… Well, let me see… not before May…"

Maukurz shrugged. He did not know the names of months. "Two more full moons. When the third one comes, that's when Halla says she'll have Baby. But I don't know how to help her," he admitted, a quiet shudder in his voice. "And she doesn't know what to do. She is afraid."

By the look in his eyes, the Uruk was afraid as well. _And right you should be,_ Edwyn thought. Edwyn frowned, poking the toe of his boot into the snow. "I doubt I can do any more than pester some village midwife—a woman who delivers many babies—to tell me about how to prepare for a big baby, and what you'll need on hand to take care of them both. But that is all I. It is a crazy thing you two have done; I can only hope she has a safe, normal delivery. There are many things that can go wrong, Maukurz. You should be warned."

"I know this," Maukurz growled quietly. "I don't expect anything good. But if you can help me… Her…" Here the Uruk looked at him with unnerving openness, his face a conflicting mixture of desperate resignation.

It was a horrible picture that Edwyn saw: Halla lying in some dark hidden place, deathly white, bled out on the floor. Edwyn shook his head, trying to find some reason to believe that Halla had a good chance of surviving. _Could Finnan not have watched over her better, preventing this end? Should I have forced her to get rid of it? Tricked her into drinking the right tea, and so saved her life?_

The thought made Edwyn feel cold inside. "Give me a few days. I'll try to round up something, even if it's just words of wisdom. In the meantime, keep her warm and smiling. If anything… I suppose that's what truly matters."

"I know," Maukurz said. "I'll be watching out for you, _r__ủ__k-goth._"

"Give me three nights, Maukurz, and then I'll come back. And give Halla my love."

Edwyn spun around, calling the hounds, climbing through the snow as the Uruk stood in the shadows, watching him with haunted eyes.


	33. Chapter 33

_Dear Edwyn,_

_Forgive me for not writing earlier, we've been quite busy here doing the King of Men's will, protecting the people of Gondor and the freed denizens of Nurn from an Orcish resurgence. It is good work, and I am proud to do it, and no one can question my honor for doing it. _

Finnan stared at the parchement, tapping his quill for a moment. In a burst of frustration, Finnan snatched at the costly paper and crumpled it, tossing it near the wastebasket with the other rejected, aborted attempts to write lies to the man he loved. He dropped his head into his hands, realizing now that the peace of mind he'd found during the War was forever lost. He couldn't be the Man he was rescuing villagers from an Uruk onslaught; he could not even grasp for that Man. Yet he loathed the caged, fearful Man that proximity to his family turned him into.

_I have hidden my true self for so long, I don't think I can ever find it_, Finnan thought, feeling hollow and empty.

"Captain Finnan," a soft, accented female voice called from outside the tent.

"Enter," Finnan said, hardly looking up. Their base camp now was near the Sea of Nurn and far enough away from the hardened lava flow that there was _some_ fodder for the horses. Finnan had been amazed how quickly a simple soldier's camp had turned into a veritable city, as Sauron's freed slaves and stragglers from all over the southlands came to seek opportunity with the wealthy knights in King Elessar's service.

The Haradrim female slid Finnan's supper tray silently onto his desk. When she didn't immediately leave, Finnan looked up with expectant eyes.

The woman was not terribly young; perhaps a few years older than Finnan himself. With her bronze skin, long sleek black hair, and almond eyes, she was quite an exotic beauty. She was also a painted whore. "Is there anything else I could do for you, Captain?" she asked in her breathy voice, a slim finger slipping over the low-cut neck of her gauzy purple dress.

"No, Sirhani," Finnan said curtly. "You may go."

But she did not go. Looking coyly from her kohl-darkened eyes she asked, "Maybe I bring something else to please you, then? I have a brother, very young, very pretty—"

"What?" Finnan sputtered, horrified. "What are you suggesting, you… you abominable woman!"

Sirhani smiled slyly. "Some like apples, some like oranges, yes? I am no fool, Captain. But if you say no…"

Finnan gaped at the woman in appalled silence. Sirhani shrugged, as if it made no difference to her. "You are a wealthy Man, are you not? Should you not do as you please, as mighty Men do?"

"I don't… I don't _fuck… _boys."

"Of course not," Sirhani said. "White Men do not do those things."

With trembling fingers, Finnan reached into the leather pouch at his belt. He pulled out a gold coin, watching the whore's big, black-lined eyes widen impossibly large. She reached out for it, but Finnan held it back. "We most certainly do _not_."

Sirhani rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course. As I said. You need not worry about me, Captain. I am a very loyal woman."

"Hmph. For the right price, you'd sell your cunny to an Orc. But this ought to buy me a little relief from your incessant… offerings."

He dropped the heavy coin into her outstretched hands, noting that she had somehow painted a beautiful, swirling design of flowers with a brown ink onto her tawny palms. He wondered treasonously if her brother was as beautiful as she was. _A Man of wealth,_ Finnan thought bitterly. _It should be so easy._

Sirhani swept a little bow. "Come find me if you change your mind, Captain. Quite skilled, my little brother. But of course, very innocent, very clean."

"Why do you say this to me?" Finnan asked, swallowing his anger for a moment to make room for his terror. "Have you heard some malicious gossip?"

"No," Sirhani purred. "It's the way you look at me. Not like another woman might, but not like a Man who wants to fuck me."

Finnan laughed harshly. "You have a rather high opinion of yourself, madam, if you think that any Man who wouldn't want you would want a boy."

Sirhani shrugged lightly. "I've done this business for long enough to know what Men like."

Finnan took a sip of his ale. Then, changing his mind, he took a longer sip from the decanter of brandy on his desk. "Tell me, Sirhani… Does your… your brother… Does he do business in _this_ camp?"

Sirhani widened her eyes in mock outrage. Grunting with slight amusement, Finnan procured another gold coin, and gave it to the woman. She smiled a seductive smile and said, "He has _several_ admirers, Captain. But I do not tell names. And of course, he is very innocent…"

"Yes, you've stated that already," Finnan said, shaking his head. He waved his hand in dismissal. "Go on, get out of here. And keep your musings concerning me-which are _wrong-_to yourself."

As soon as she left, Finnan took another gulp of brandy. He was stunned, not knowing what to think. Was he in danger of being exposed? And who were the Men—knights like him!—spending the night with Sirhani's brother?

But most of all, it was her gentle admonishment that he ought to live as he pleased that rung through Finnan's mind. _As if that was possible. Sirhani doesn't know where I come from. She doesn't know how my family could lose… _

_ Could lose what, exactly? There is no law violated! No one is harmed! Who has the right to say anything about my affairs?_

Getting good and drunk, Finnan produced another piece of parchment, readied another pot of ink.

_Dearest Edwyn,_

_I should not have left things as they were. You might think I had nothing to say to you, but that was a deception on my part. I have been a coward, I have been living as a criminal, in hiding, in secret, and I cannot bear it any longer. But my feelings for you are not a crime. In my terror I allowed the most important thing slip away from me. Truthfully, I don't wish to live any life that you are not a part of._

_ I regret coming here. We do not engage in honorable battle so much as run down the helpless. It is strange to think of Orcs as helpless, but here they truly are. They are trying to live and hide on land that has been blasted by evil and ash and rivers of fire. They are starving, they are burdened with females and young, and we are ordered to dispatch them all. On several occasions the males made such stands—while attempting to allow their females and young an escape—as Men might consider brave and honorable. While they are not Men of any sort, it is a hard thing to kill females, but sometimes they give a good fight, which makes it somewhat more tolerable, even as I know they have no chance against me. Still, they served the Enemy, and as such are just as guilty as the males. So it is proper to destroy them. Yet to kill the little Orcs, some so obviously newborn and assuredly innocent of any crime, is something that I can only hope never to become accustomed to. I do my duty, and I remind myself that they will grow in only a few years into the very creatures that caused Men such harm during the War. And I cannot leave my post, most of all because I have no where else to go. _

_ I am not ready to return to Birchleigh. The village chokes me, my life is like a cage. I feel my father's shade all around me, I can still hear his shame and abuse in my ears. I have always longed to be the sort of son he would be proud of, but that can never be. At what point does a Man give up on trying to please his parents, and learn to please himself? I am afraid I nearly forgot what made me happy, those brief months where I was, for once in my life, truly happy. And I am afraid I caused harm to others, you especially, as I struggled with my own darkness._

_ As far as Lady Birchleigh… I do wonder if she is well. If you have kept her location secret from me, I cannot blame you. I was going to kill her. But though the law would call me just for doing so, I realize now that I would not want to end her life. She never asked to be brought into my troubles, and she is, from what I know of her, an emotional and highly spirited young girl. While her choices are nauseating to me, I must ask myself how I might have pushed her to it, and failed to protect her from it. I am glad to know that soldiers are watching my lands for me, because wherever he who seduced her came from, it must have been somewhere close by. Guard my land, Edwyn, if you are still there. And if you know where Halla is, guard her as well. Don't let her destroy herself, and tell her that if she wishes it, we can reconcile, and find some way to live together in peace._

_ As I hope you and I can reconcile. I will not hide anymore. I will strive to live my life as I please, and no longer harm others in my grief as I attempt to be a Man that I am not. I may not deserve your forgiveness and affection, but I would beg you for it._

_All of my love,_

_Finnan _

In the darkness of the grey dawn, Finnan rose with a pounding headache and a sour mouth. Stumbling about, he lit his oil lamp, and then his attention was caught by the letter laid out on his desk for anyone to see. He cringed in horror, remembering Sirhani. His blurry eyes swept over the letter he wrote in a loose, drunken hand. How could he send such a thing? Anyone else reading it would know not only that he disdained the King's service, nor that he had been cuckolded, but that he was an unrepentant homosexual!

He snatched up the letter and began to tear it. But then, some small part of him rebelled. It was a terrifying feeling, but it grew in strength and determination so that he could not ignore it. Sirhani was _right_, even if it seemed impossible in the clear light of dawn to live his life as he pleased.

Finnan folded the letter tightly, and buried it at the bottom of his trunk.

* * *

Ailith's tavern was a great success. Finally pleased to be known for something other than her past, Ailith's confidence grew, and her laughter was not such a foreign sound in the tavern anymore. It pleased Edwyn to hear it when he came in, and he was glad to see Ailith chatting easily with Maybel and several of the other village women. It seemed the young woman had found some measure of acceptance… though, he noted, she still hadn't married that poor smitten carpenter!

"My lord Edwyn," Ailith greeted him, traces of lovely pride in her face. "I had a feeling you'd visit us tonight. I've kept your regular table open." She beckoned a passing serving girl, and ordered Edwyn's usual drink, house soup, and baked potato with butter and cheese.

Ailith saw Edwyn seated, standing back as the girl brought over his spiced ale. "Fetch me another, sweeting," Edwyn said to the girl. He looked up at Ailith. "I must speak to you. Please, sit for a moment."

"I shouldn't drink at work…"

"You own the place. And you might be glad for the drink."

Ailith dropped onto the comfortable cushioned chair, her silvery-blue eyes wide. "Dear Bema, you've found her body," she breathed beneath the din of happy conversation, clanking mugs, and sizzling specialty dishes.

"No; but she is in some danger, and I would help her as much as I can."

"She was in danger the moment that beast laid eyes on her. I doubt there is anything _you_ can do now."

Her eyes had turned hard and cold by the time the serving wench left her ale. _This will be difficult,_ Edwyn thought. _Better approach it slowly._

"Ailith, tell me first how you are. You do well here, it seems. Are you happy?"

"Happy enough, my lord. No, that is a lie: I am happier than I've been in a long, long time."

Edwyn smiled. "And how is Harlan?"

Ailith blushed; like her newfound pride, it was a lovely thing on her face, Edwyn thought. She cupped her ale in two hands like a little girl, and shook her head, not knowing what to say. "He tried to kiss me. I was… frightened. Not that he'd kiss me, but that he wouldn't stop. And that maybe I wouldn't have the strength to stop him. So I pushed him away, and for days I did not see him."

"But that's awful! You poor thing!"

Ailith bit her lip, grinning. "Well, it's better now. He bought me a puppy, if you can believe it! A fine hound puppy, just like you might have, my lord! It must have cost him a fortune, even if it is, for now, a little chewing mess making imp! So he isn't angry with me. And we've started taking our walks again… Just talking, you know. I do love his company."

"Then I am glad for you."

Edwyn's meal came, and he took a few bites of soup before looking up at Ailith. He was reluctant to broach a topic that would surely be painful for her, being a victim of Uruks. But he had no choice. "Ailith… Halla's time grows near, and she has no help. They are both terrified. It's quite… quite touching, in a tragic way, to see her… her lover suffering for fear of what will happen to her. He has no idea what to do for her. And you know Halla; what can that poor girl do to help herself now? So… forgive me, I feel terrible, but I must ask you to try to remember… your own labor. What it was like for you. And what was done to help you. So that we might gather such wisdom and supplies as Halla and Maukurz need right now. Otherwise, I fear Halla will die in a matter of weeks."

Edwyn grimaced as Ailith, pale and shaking, turned her head and closed her eyes.

"Ailith…?"

"_How_ can you ask this of me? No! I will _not_ remember! Not for her, and certainly not for her _beast._ They've made their bed, let them lie in it together!"

"Ailith! Please… You know you don't wish for Halla's death! How many times have you spoken to be of concern for her wellbeing?"

"And, you recall, of my _disgust._"

"Yes, that, but you said you worried for her. And you said you owed her, a little bit, for financing this place. I know it might be painful for you, but surely you might hazard it if it meant saving her life! And as for her… him… well, he is what he is, but he genuinely loves her."

"_Does he?"_ Ailith spat.

"Well, yes, I believe he does! But forget him, you don't know him and you don't need to think of him. Won't you help poor Halla? Ailith? I know you are a kind woman. All I ask is that you remember, and tell me what I might need to know to help her."

Ailith swallowed hard. She turned to face Edwyn, and he watched her take a deep breath for courage. "She will need a midwife, Edwyn. Short of that, I wouldn't know what to advise you. The baby will likely be too big for her. She might tear, and need to be stitched up. She will need to be kept clean, so she doesn't take a fever and die. If they make it, someone will need to cut the… the baby's cord, wash him, wrap him up. I imagine he would need to nurse, so if she dies, the baby dies as well, since no one in the right mind would nurse it for her. I don't know any more than that. I drowned my child, as you know. You should not ask me to consider _hers._"

With that, Ailith stood. "I am sorry," she whispered tightly, teary eyed. "I can't do this." Then she turned and bustled away, disappearing in the noise and laughter of her tavern.

Edwyn sighed hard, rubbing his forehead, feeling an ache coming on. He downed his ale quickly, and then drank Ailith's as well. _I will gather supplies, and talk to some other woman about the basic principles of childbirth, but I can do no more. Poor Halla. Poor Maukurz. Didn't they know what they were getting themselves into? The only ones who would know enough to help them, are the very people his folk did such horrible injury to!_

Edwyn was never prone to despair, but if Ailith refused to help, he could see no way for Halla to survive.


	34. Chapter 34

"You smell like springtime," Halla said, loosening Maukurz's braid with her fingers. "I forgot that there was always snow at the top of the mountain. I wish I could see flowers…"

"It's not safe, _ashgaz._ There are soldiers about… and any day now…"

"Yes, Baby," Halla said, smiling. She lay her hands on her big belly for a moment, pushing softly, until the little thing thumped back with a hard, strong kick. "Here he is!"

Maukurz brightened and leaned down over Halla's belly, pressing his lips to the lovely curve. He waited until he felt the little kicks, his palms smooth as he tried to make out how big his whelp's foot was. "Gonna be _big_," Maukurz murmured. "Strong." He closed his eyes. _I will not think of her dying. I will not think of Baby dying. Not when they are both here now, and well._

Well _enough_, Maukurz thought guiltily. Halla's arms and legs were sticks, her cheeks were gaunt, and no matter how much he tried to feed her, Baby greedily sucked it all up. Her belly—though she was still small to him, he understood when the horse lord said he thought his own mother would burst. It was unnerving to see such a large belly on such a small creature. Halla had managed to make herself a loose hide dress, but not before her pretty gowns were stretched and torn. Sometimes she looked at her dusty pile of Mannish wealth and laughed at her foolishness. But she was never upset with him, never regretful about coming to live with him. Always smiling at him. Sometimes he felt good from that smile; sometimes he felt like shit for not deserving her.

The next day, Maukurz spent a long while outside the cave. When he returned, Halla was sleeping. He picked up one of her scraped, unused hides, a large enough thing from a red deer buck, and brought it out of the cave. A while later Maukurz returned, dropped to his knees, and leaned over Halla, brushing her hair back to whisper in her ear. "_F__ủ__thlat ashgaz-izub, brushizg l__ủ__l-lab…"_

She murmured something without words, smiling as she came awake. "What is that, love?"

"I'm taking you outside. It's spring."

Maukurz lifted her easily. Halla wrapped her arms around his neck. "What do you mean it's spring?" Halla asked, grinning as he carried her through the cave where Narzum was lounging, leisurely putting braids into his hair. A pile of tiny deer bones sat at his feet. Maukurz lifted an eyebrow to it, but had no time to care.

Maukurz brought Halla into the sunlight, and she laughed breathily in delight. He'd cleared away a circle of snow, and filled it all with golden daffodils, the ones that grew rampant up and down the mountains in late April and early May. Maukurz sat down with Halla, holding her in his lap. He rubbed his hand up and down her leg. "You warm enough?"

"Of course I am," Halla said, grabbing the long green stems of four sunny daffodils. She held them up before her smiling lips and said, laughing, "It's spring, isn't it?" Halla clutched the flowers in her hand as she wrapped her arms around Maukurz's waist, whispering, "Thank you."

He brought a bunch inside for her, and scattered the rest in the forest, creeping as low as he dared down the mountain. Maukurz blurred out a horse track with the heel of his sandal. He closed his eyes, listening with his hand to the ground, feeling the pounding of hoofbeats on far trails tickling his fingertips. But they wouldn't come to where the Uruks had climbed, where Maukurz had carried Halla to. They were safe where they slept.

But between the tarks and the Uruks' grudge with the Dunlendings, Maukurz thought it was only a matter of time. Maybe Narzum was right. Maybe they should go north, like Ghuribal.

Maukurz jogged back into the rising river, running a ways upstream before he began his climb again, back into the cold and snow. "Tarks got a little higher today," he told Baiurz, who'd just returned from his own hunt. "Are the others here?"

"Nevermind that. Yer woman says she's havin' the baby now. Get in there."

Halla, sitting on her bed, held her hands out for Maukurz as he skidded into their small living area. She pulled him close. "Oh I'm so glad you're back!"

"What happened yet?"

"Like you told me: cramps. Three now, since you've been gone, none too painful. And some, um, bloody stuff," Halla said, blushing. "That you also told me about."

"All right. All right. Good. No water, right? No. Good. We don't want that so soon. All right. I'm boilin' water. Then I'm doin' that checkin' you thing we talked about, see whut's whut." Maukurz stood up, spun in a circle for a moment, unsure of which way to go. He dropped to his knees again and grabbed Halla's face, kissing her hard. "You're both gonna be _fine._ Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow… Baby will be here, and you'll be feelin' better."

Halla nodded, taking a shaking breath. "We'll be fine," she repeated.

"I'm gonna see if Baiurz will cook you up some food. Helmet stew, like we made before. And a little meat while you wait."

"Oh I just want some _bread_…"

"I know _ashgaz. _We all want that. But we got what we got, right? All right. I'm gettin' to work."

Another kiss, and Maukurz set out to boil water. The Rider Edwyn had said it again and again: _clean hands. Boil all the wash water first._ Maukurz refused to think beyond that step, though images of his son jumped around in his mind, until he was so happy and terrified he thought he'd scream. Soon enough Narzum and Shatauz returned, and sat in anxious vigil while Maukurz prepared, and Baiurz cooked.

As soon as his hands were scrubbed, Maukurz followed Edwyn's instructions exactly. Even knowing what to expect, he felt slightly disappointed when he felt how little her womb was open. He looked up between Halla's legs, where the young woman watched eagerly, biting her lip. Maukurz shook his head. "Not yet. Like I said. Gonna be a _while. _Best eat now, get up your strength."

Halla found that she was ravenously hungry. Once she'd finished all the meat Baiurz cooked for her, picked out the soft chunks and drank the meaty broth from the stew, she lay back on her bed waiting for something to happen. Her next contraction was no longer than the first three: a long while since her last, and easily managed, indicating that delivery was still a good way off. It was so easy, with so little pain, that Halla wondered if she'd been terrified for no reason at all. "Maybe it won't be hard," she said languidly, resting her head in Maukurz's lap. "Maybe it will be so easy we'll laugh at ourselves for all our worry."

"Hope so," Maukurz said, smoothing her hair.

But almost as soon as night fell, the pain of each contraction was intensifying. Breathless, Halla clutched Maukurz's hand, trying not to scream. Soon she couldn't hold back anymore, and the Uruks in the cave exchanged nervous glances as Halla's screams filled the air around them. Baiurz slapped his thighs and stood up, walking around the soot-stained sheet hung months ago. His eyes narrowed on the sight of Halla lying on her back panting and gritting her teeth. Whatever she was enduring must have hurt something terrible, and Maukurz was focused intently on her, wiping her brow with a damp rag. He looked up at Baiurz with raw fear in his face.

"It's s'posed to get like this, her friend said."

"The warrior," Baiurz replied grimly.

"Her friend," Maukurz repeated. "If he was gonna hunt for us, he'd have done it a long time ago."

"All the same, there are other hunters about. She can't scream."

"_What?_ Do you know what sort of pain she's in? Can you not see?"

Baiurz nodded. "I can see. And maybe where she comes from, screamin' an all that is fine. But she's one of us now. She chose to be one of us. So she gotta do her business _quiet._ You hear me, Halla? _Quiet._ Unless you want those soldiers running down on us 'fore you finish having the little one."

Maukurz grit his jaw. Halla turned her face, pressed it against his thigh. He could hear her weeping, and it tore at his heart.

"Give her somethin' to bite down on. That's the best we can do for her. No more screaming."

Halla's labor lasted through the night, and through another day as well, horrifying the Uruks, none more than Maukurz, who was tearing at his hair. He didn't understand why her body seemed to be ready—her womb was open, he could feel something wet and smooth there now—but Baby wasn't coming. Whatever was happening was tearing the girl up. By the second night, she couldn't scream, even if it was allowed: she was delirious with exhaustion. Maukurz knew that when the baby started to come out, she had to push. But how could she do that, when she didn't even have the strength to grip his fingers? Deep into the night her water broke, and she became lucid for a few moments, watching Maukurz with feverish, sunken eyes. "Please…" she rasped. "I can't—"

Maukurz checked her again, brushing her legs apart easily, because there was no strength in them. His heart flipped: he could feel thick wet hair, and the top of Baby's big head. But it wasn't moving, and Maukurz thought, agonized, that his child was stuck in his girl's narrow hips. He tried to smile. "I can feel him now."

"Coming… out?"

He wanted to lie to her, but as he was trying to get the lie past his lips, he choked a little, his eyes closed. He shook his head.

Halla couldn't even groan. Another pain came, sharp and tearing, and then another, and forgetting all about Baby, she whimpered that she wanted to sleep, she wanted the pain to stop and she didn't care how. When the contraction passed, she reached limply for Maukurz, and he crawled over her. "I want _Ailith_," she sobbed weakly. "I can't do it alone, I want Ailith…"

"Naw, little girl, she can't come here…"

"Please!"

"Maukurz!" the commander's voice was sharp. Horrified, Maukurz looked wildly over his shoulder. Old Baiurz nodded grimly. "I think you'd better try to fetch someone for her. If she's askin' for a woman friend, I don't think there's a choice now. Baby's got to live… Or else all of this ain't worth a shit. Our lives ain't worth _shit._"

"You don't _understand_… That woman… I _know_ her. She won't come."

Baiurz nodded knowingly. "You think I don't hear things? There's a Man and a _sharlob_ who know about you and her, who've kept us secret. You can try to find them… Or you can watch Halla and Baby die."

Maukurz sunk his head in his hands, until a breathy little sob told him that the pain was coming back. His eyes stung with grief as he leaned over Halla, kissing her brow softly. Her eyes were closed, and she was weakly shaking her head, the hide strap she'd bravely bit down on earlier abandoned, because she didn't even have the strength to scream. "All right. I'ma go get her. I'ma run like I never run, Halla, and I'ma make her come. Edwyn too. I'm sorry, little girl… I'm _so fucking sorry…_"

Halla was incoherent, frighteningly unaware of what was happening again. "Narzum!" Maukurz cried, desperation in his voice. None of the Uruks had slept, holding their vigil with Halla. Now Narzum jumped up and ran to Maukurz. "Stay by her. Hold her head, talk to her. Tell her I'm coming right back with help for her. And don't… don't let her die."

Narzum had never seen a woman in such pain. It was a hideous picture, her lovely body all swollen in the middle, her eyes wet with tears and black with exhaustion, her limbs weak and limp. Privately, he thought Halla was as close to death as he'd ever seen any white-skin. Terrified, he sat down behind the woman, afraid to touch her.

By the time Maukurz started his dash down the mountain, a heavy rain began to fall, and Halla was unconscious.

* * *

_F__ủ__thlat ashgaz-izub, brushizg l__ủ__l-lab_ - Awaken, my little one, I have your flowers.


	35. Chapter 35

She'd asked for _Ailith._ Just another face once to Maukurz, a face he'd frankly forgotten until that horrific moment in the hayshed. Ailith: more likely to scream and stick him with a knife than to help his baby come into the world. Maukurz was surprised by the ease with which he picked out her scent from all the others. She was living in the little village now, in a sturdy hut that puffed a steady stream of smoke into the rainy night. Maukurz stood in the mud outside, knowing that every moment—every breath—was precious and desperate, but still he couldn't bring himself to invade her home, or throw rocks at her door, or any other thing.

He'd have to find Edwyn first. And Edwyn had already told Maukurz that he was staying in the big house. He would get Edwyn, and have Edwyn bring Ailith out… and then Maukurz would think of some way to get the woman up the mountain.

Maukurz ran across the fields, towards the manor house. He could see dim firelight in the upstairs room where he'd once found Halla. Maukurz pulled off his sandals. Gripping the slippery rock face with shaking hands and unsteady feet, Maukurz climbed up the window, inhaled deeply to see if he smelled the Rider alone. Reassured, he pounded furiously on the shutters.

Moments later, the scent became strong and Edwyn smacked the shutters open so fast Maukurz had to wrench his head out of the way. The groggy-eyed white-skin blinked in surprise; and then understanding set in.

"She's having the baby?"

"She's _been_ having the baby for two days. It won't come, and she's giving up. She wants help. She wants Ailith."

"Shit," Edwyn hissed. "Shit. All right, get… get down… And try to stay out of sight! I'll be right down. Go to the front door and wait… discretely."

Maukurz hit the ground with a thud, sending a shock up his spine. He yanked his sandals back on with a hard hand and ran around the house, splashing mud all over his legs. Edwyn hurried out as well, yanking his boots on and almost forgetting to shut the door behind him.

"I don't know if she'll come, Maukurz. She doesn't like your kind."

Maukurz shook his head, jogging beside Edwyn. "Don't matter. She gotta come. She gotta help."

"You know where she _lives_?" Edwyn asked, slightly fearful of the desperate Uruk beside him.

"Know her smell."

"Maukurz… I won't help you if you plan on snatching that woman and bringing her to your home. And really, I don't know what good she'd be able to do anyway. She's no midwife."

"I won't snatch her. And she's gotta know somethin' I don't," the Uruk maintained. "And Halla wants her," he added in a shaking voice.

"We'll see. Here… wait on the side of the house. And put this on."

Edwyn tossed Maukurz one of Finnan's hooded cloaks. The Uruk made a face at the scent, but swung it over his shoulders and pulled up the wide hood. Even so hidden, it was easy to make out what he was from his wide build and his grey mud-stained legs. If anyone woke and came out, took a close look, Maukurz would be caught and likely killed, and Halla was done for.

Edwyn said a quick prayer, then began to knock hard on Ailith's door.

After a few desperate moments she opened it, swathed in a warm wool robe, her blonde hair loose and tangled. She looked at Edwyn's grim face and sighed deeply. Then her eyes switched over Edwyn's shoulder, and he saw her jaw tighten. He saw a flash of murder—and recognition—in her eyes, and shocked, Edwyn looked over his shoulder. Maukurz, _of course_, had not obeyed Edwyn. He'd crept behind Edwyn, and now he knelt in the mud in front of Ailith's door, his eyes down and his palms up and out, the rain pouring down on him.

For a long moment, Maukurz kneeled before the woman, and all was silent but for the pouring rain. _She ain't gonna do it. I don't _deserve_ for her to do it. _

"I knew this would happen," Ailith said quietly. "Wait here."

She shut the door, and Edwyn whirled on Maukurz. "Left a bit of it out, did you, Maukurz?" Edwyn hissed angrily.

Maukurz hazarded an upward glance, the rain making his grief-stricken face look ravaged by tears. "Not your concern," he said quietly.

"You want me to help you? You want me to _trust_ you? Don't _ever_ do that to me again!"

Maukurz shook his head enigmatically, and Edwyn sighed.

"In the fall the Dunlendings killed an Uruk. He one of your fellows? Trying to rape women?"

"He didn't _rape_ anyone," Maukurz said, trembling as he fought to keep his anger down. "They _lie._"

"And how many are you?"

"Just four now. And we don't bother anyone. The War's over, Edwyn. I left all that behind with it, and so did my brothers."

Edwyn groaned softly. "No, you don't cause any trouble. You just seduced a nobleman's wife, and brought her as close to death as you could."

Before Maukurz could respond—and he blamed himself far more than Edwyn could ever blame him—the door opened. Ailith now seemed to pretend that Maukurz wasn't there at all. She had several bottles in her hands. "This one here is to intensify her labor if the baby has to come right away. This one is to slow it down, as long as the baby's umbilical cord isn't compressed, but you would use this with _extreme _caution, because it will stop her contractions for an hour or so. But if, say, she's starting to bleed out… You might need it. And this is a harsh pepper that you'd give her to smell, if she's passed out."

"You saw a midwife," Edwyn said, smiling softly at Ailith as she placed the bottles in a small satchel.

Ailith closed her eyes, nodding. "I didn't want to be responsible for her death. So here, take this, and good luck—"

"No!" Maukurz said sharply, looking up finally. "She wants _you._ And I don't think _he_ knows any more about what to do than I do! _Compressed umbilical cord?_"

The sound of his voice clouded the woman's eyes with fear and darkness, and for a moment she wavered on the edge of screaming, or fainting. Edwyn put a warm hand on her shoulder.

"No," Ailith breathed, her eyes on Edwyn. "No."

"I'm begging you," Maukurz said desperately. "I'm _begging_ you. I don't… She's not… She won't make it… I gotta get back to her before she dies, _please._"

"You… are begging _me," _Ailith said slowly. "I _begged_ you once, I think."

"Maybe we should just go," Edwyn suggested quietly.

"I won't hurt you," Maukurz continued, ignoring Edwyn entirely. "It's no trap. I don't do that no more, and I was wrong then. It don't mean nothin' to you, but I'm dead sorry for it. But this ain't for _me_. Halla needs you. She's so sick—" His voice broke, and he clenched his fists. "She don't even know what's goin' on no more, she just cried for you. If she—_dies_—if she gotta die, I want her to at least know I brought you for her. She don't ask much from me… Practically nothin' for all she gave… _Shit,_" he whispered, choked up to the point he couldn't speak any more horrible words about Halla's death. He felt ready to lie down and die himself. "_Please_ help her!"

Ailith was crying silently. "You don't deserve this," she said harshly, seeing the little grey female, the sloshing water. She turned bitter eyes on the Uruk. "I would have welcomed any chance to do you harm, you piece of filth! But now you rob me of that as well, because I can't let Halla die without trying to save her. So: I will go with you to your lair, and I will do what I can to help your Halla, and this innocent child, and if you trick me and trap me and kill me, then so be it. At least _I_ won't be the monster!"

Maukurz gasped, rising up, thanking her endlessly.

"She can't run like you. Nor, for that matter, can I. Ailith and I will go to the stable and grab a horse. You can ride bareback, Ailith?"

She nodded tightly, looking sick to her stomach.

"Then let's go," Edwyn said, taking Ailith's hand. "And bless you, lady," he added, kissing Ailith's hand.

* * *

They tied the horse when it could climb no higher. Maukurz offered to carry Ailith, but she clung to Edwyn's back instead. Maukurz nipped his lip bloody watching Edwyn make the perilous climb with Ailith hanging off of him, but he made it. At any other time, Maukurz might have been grudgingly impressed by the slender pretty-faced Man's strength.

"Good spot you have here," Edwyn gasped once his feet were back on flat ground. "That climb was hideous."

"That's the idea. Come on."

The two humans followed Maukurz. Ailith turned to Edwyn, looking pointedly at the dagger on his belt. "You will stay beside me. If it comes to a fight, you kill me first. Swear it."

"Ailith, please…"

"Swear it! I will _not_…" she shook her head, and Edwyn saw that she was barely holding herself together.

"Fine. I swear. But it won't come to that, I told you already: he loves her."

"That doesn't mean—"

They fell silent, coming before a small cave mouth that glowed a warm orange from the snapping fire just inside.

"Here we are," Maukurz said. He turned, putting his hard palm flat against Edwyn's chest. "I had no choice in this. My commander had no choice. I'm trusting you now, not to betray us. Both of you."

"We won't," Edwyn said rashly, hoping he wasn't making promises he couldn't keep. He was morbidly curious about what he'd find inside a cave of Uruks. Piles of skulls crossed his mind. Ailith clutched his hand fiercely as Maukurz brought them inside.

Two Uruks in ragged clothes of black wool and roughly sewn hide turned at once, anxious mistrust all over their dark, frightening faces.

"How is she?" Maukurz asked them urgently.

The older of the two, with grey in his long coarse hair, shook his head sadly. "She's out cold."

"Hurry," Maukurz said, dashing behind the curtain. Ailith and Edwyn followed. Ailith was trembling violently, thinking that if ever the ambush would come, it would be as she walked behind the sooty dirty sheet.

And then she saw Halla laid out on bare hides stained with sweat and amniotic fluid, a baggy leather shirt pulled up over her belly. An Uruk with shoulder-length braids adorned with small bones sat at her head, her shining blonde hair in his fingers. Ailith gasped, touching her heart softly. Halla was beaten an pale unto death.

"She's been out since almost after you left, big brother. Her belly's doin' this gripping thing every so often, but not much lately."

"Her contractions are slowing down," Ailith said. Without looking at Maukurz she asked him, "Do you know what to feel for?"

"I think so," he rasped, his voice tortured.

"Go ahead and check her then," Ailith instructed. She reached into her satchel, uncorking a small vial that filled the air with a sharp, bitter smell. "Go away," she said, looking quickly to the Uruk at Halla's head.

"Go on, Narzum," Maukurz said quickly.

Ailith knelt by Halla's head. "You poor, foolish girl," Ailith whispered, lifting Halla's head. She stuck the vial under Halla's nose, and nothing happened. "Come on… Wake up!"

Ailith slapped Halla's face lightly, feeling her cold, clammy skin.

"No change," Maukurz groaned. "Baby's right there, I can feel his head, but he just won't leave her womb."

"Her hips might be too small…"

Finally, Halla moaned softly, then sneezed several times. She opened her eyes barely, blinking as she saw Ailith. "You came…" Halla said, her throat scratchy.

"I'm here too, lovely," Edwyn added. Though you aren't looking your best right now, I have to be honest. So hurry up and push this big baby out!"

"Edwyn," Halla said, smiling. "Maukurz…"

"I'm here, _ashgaz. _I'm right here." He came to her side, taking her hand and kissing it, his face full of pain. _I did this to her,_ he told himself again and again. _As much as she trusted me, and I did this to her._

"I'm so _tired_, Maukurz…" Halla said faintly, her eyes fluttering shut again.

"No, you don't!" Ailith told her firmly, slapping her cheeks lightly. "It's time to work."

"Oh I don't think I can…"

"Baby needs you to, Halla," Maukurz said, choking, putting her limp fingers against his cheek. "And I need you, Halla, please!"

"Drink this," Ailith said. She held Halla's head up and poured the tonic down her throat. Halla whimpered and gagged, and Maukurz thought for a terrifying moment that Ailith was poisoning Halla and his baby. His own eyes didn't weep, but when he looked to Edwyn, the Rider saw the Uruk's fear and grief plainly.

"She knows what she's doing," Edwyn assured him. "We talked about this months ago, just before you and I last spoke. She got that from a woman who delivers babies as her living."

"It will make her labor come back hard and fast," Ailith said. "If this baby _can_ come out, it will soon enough. If not… There's nothing anyone can do."

Baiurz and Shatauz could no longer wait on the other side of the partition. Now the four Uruk-hai and two humans circled around Halla, waiting breathlessly for the medicine to work through her body. When it finally gripped her, the young woman screamed hoarsely, her eyes popping open flushed with pain. Ailith slipped behind her, pulling her up. Maukurz scrambled back between her legs.

"He's moved! I can feel more of his head!"

"Good! Your child is coming, Halla. When the pain comes, you must push with all you have, all right sweeting?"

"It hurts now!" Halla cried.

"Then push! Push now, Halla!"

Halla felt as if her body was being torn in half. Digging her chin into her chest, she fought with the little strength she had left to push her baby out. She hardly felt it over the wild agony of her labor, but the baby moved down further, its head free of her hips. In a moment Maukurz gasped: his baby's head emerged.

"Gently," Ailith warned him, still refusing to look at him. "Don't pull it. Let the baby come to—"

A shrill, hideous scream cut Ailith's words off. This new pain was almost blinding, completely different than the contractions. It was a stabbing, shattered pain in her back that threatened to paralyze her even as there was a sudden lightening of pressure between her legs.

Panicked, Maukurz caught the baby as he came out in a rush of bright red blood. "Oh… oh… A boy, Halla, just like you said— Narzum, bring me the rags and water…"

Ailith could _not_ look to Halla's baby. But more than her own pain, she was afraid for Halla. The girl was sobbing still. "Are you still in pain, sweeting? You have a son, Halla!"

"It hurts so much!" Halla cried. She opened her eyes then, gasping through her sobs to see Maukurz cradling a big grey baby, washing him clean. The baby squealed in protest as Maukurz cleaned his face, and Narzum and Shatauz laughed breathlessly. "Baby…" Halla gasped, trying to smile. But the pain was so horrible, and it wouldn't let up, and she became violently nauseous.

"Where does it hurt?" Ailith asked quietly, fighting not to see the sudden burst of joy around her. She didn't know that Maukurz was torn in two: unable to enjoy his son, his frantic eyes switching back and forth from Halla to the baby.

"Under… under…" Halla motioned her hand limply to her backside. "I can't move… it hurts…"

"Why can't she _move?"_ Maukurz demanded. He was astonished to feel Baiurz squat down beside him, and place his hard hand on Maukurz's shoulder.

"I don't know," Ailith replied quietly. "The baby might have broken something in you."

As little sobs escaped Halla's lips, Maukurz looked down on his plump strong son; then he shut his eyes in horror as the awful guilt overwhelmed him.

* * *

The sun was rising by the time Halla was resting in something close to comfort. The baby had broken her tailbone, but the pain, after suffering so much, dulled enough to be somewhat tolerable. She was brutally exhausted, and shivering slightly even though Maukurz had bundled her up in furs. Because lying on her back hurt far too much, the Uruks had rolled up what hides and furs they used for blankets in order to prop Halla on her side.

But the tired smile on her face was full of love. Amazed, she looked down on Baby in his warm blanket, her fingers smoothing over his high, chubby cheeks. His face had such classic human baby proportions that she was astonished and pleased. Yet his features belonged to Maukurz completely, and one day, when he'd grown out of his baby fat, he would resemble his father quite closely. Baby's eyes were slanted the same way, a cloudy dark color that was brightening to a pure deep forest green. He had a thick crop of soft black hair, destined to grow fast and long and tough, like a horse's mane. And he was so _grey!_ Halla looked to Maukurz, who sat just beside her, stunned into silence. "He looks _just_ like you. Except the eye color. He is beautiful."

"Your back's_ broke_," he whispered, miserable.

Halla smiled at Baby, smoothing her finger against his plump palm, making his tiny grey fingers curl. He had no claws at this point, just thin grey nails, tiny, perfect grey nails. He didn't cry, either, but made soft, mewling sounds, much like a kitten, and little squeaks and squeals. Halla adored him completely. "That will heal in no time," she breathed. "We'll have Baby always."

Swallowing hard, Maukurz stretched out beside her, leaning on his elbow. He cupped Halla's cheek in his palm, tipping her face up to his. His lips against hers, he said shakily, "I thought I was going to lose you, Halla."

"I'm here," she told him softly. "I'm here, and Baby's here, and we're not leaving you Maukurz. I promise. And I'll be _fine._ Look what you have given me!"

"Maukurz," Edwyn called, rejoining them, Ailith holding his hand tightly. "Halla. We're going to go now. Your commander Baiurz already gave me a good drilling, swearing us to secrecy, so don't worry. But Ailith needs to go home."

"Oh, Ailith!" Halla cried softly. "Maukurz, let me have a moment with her."

Maukurz pushed himself up, and walked to Edwyn's side. Ailith gathered her breath, then went to kneel by Halla.

"I meant it," Edwyn told Maukurz quietly. "I won't betray you all. Neither will she. I wish we could figure out some way for you all to safe, but until then… You all stay up here, minding your own affairs. I am glad that I got to know you some. I would like it if our people might see each other as friends, no longer enemies. As long as respect is shown by each."

"We don't mean anyone harm who don't wanna hurt us," Maukurz replied. "You see how it is for us. We just want to survive."

"And raise your son," Edwyn said, smiling. "Quite a big, healthy boy. I've no liquor to toast you with, but I wish him health and long life all the same. And wisdom and justness as well, if we're all to try to share this world. Look out for me, Maukurz. I'll want to check on her, and bring things for her comfort."

Maukurz nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. He hesitantly raised his hand, and placed it on Edwyn's shoulder in friendship.

"Ailith, thank you," Halla said, looking up at the older woman. "You saved my life, and my son. Thank you isn't even enough."

Ailith tried hard to avoid looking at Halla's big Uruk son. But finally she gave in, her fingers trembling over her mouth. The baby was far from human, but bonny and bright, and Ailith felt a tug in her guts, and a wash of guilt. "I'm glad I did it, Halla," she said.

Ailith forced herself to smile. She reached out and swept a lock of hair from Halla's cheek, tucked it behind her ear. "You take care of yourself. Don't get up more than you absolutely have to, until it doesn't hurt anymore."

"I'll be fine thanks to you," Halla said drowsily, and Ailith knew that Halla would be asleep soon.

"I'm going, Halla. I wish you the best of luck and life."

But Halla's eyes didn't open again, and her breathing finally deepened into a restful pattern. She was asleep, cuddled with her sleeping baby. Ailith smiled softly, feeling as if she had finally done some good, perhaps maybe something towards offsetting the cruel murder of her daughter. She stood up and returned to Edwyn, sighing, "Take me home now."


	36. Chapter 36

Maukurz sat on his furs, Baby lying on his back between Maukurz's outstretched legs. There was a haze of quiet happiness on the Uruk's face as he studied his son. In one way it was hard to imagine that Baby would ever be as big as _he_ was; but then, he could see his son's strength already. He lay his finger over the child's palm, and Baby curled his fist around it. The first time Maukurz pulled quickly away, Baby's fingers released. But the second time, Baby held fast. Maukurz grinned at that.

Baby's eyesight had sharpened considerably in three days, and if anything he had plumped up a good deal more. He could follow Maukurz's hand moving at a low speed. When Maukurz turned him on his belly, Baby looked up right away, his little head wobbly but his eyes curious. He tried to push up on his chunky arms. _A few more days,_ Maukurz thought. _And he'll be pushing all the way up._

"He's awake?" Halla asked, just waking up herself.

Maukurz scooped Baby carefully into his arms, surprised when the little creature made a happy-sounding squeal. "Yeah, he's awake," Maukurz said, smiling, his voice hushed. He turned around, glad again to see how much better Halla looked with a few days of rest. The color was back in her cheeks, at least. "You want him? He's probably hungry."

She nodded, reaching out her arms to take Baby under the blankets with her, as Maukurz lay beside them. The tiny Uruk nuzzled quickly against her chest, and Maukurz brought the blanket down to the middle of her arms so he could see, saying, "Beautiful."

"After all that you saw, you think so still?" Halla asked, laughing softly. She knew the answer already. Halla trusted Maukurz intimately and implicitly, and had no choice now but to rely on him for her most basic needs.

Maukurz nodded, eyes shining and serious and warm. "You need anything? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You can teach me your language now," Halla told him, smiling. "You will want Baby to speak it. And he should have an Uruk-hai name."

"I know. I was thinking… But it's tricky. I never thought I'd name anyone before, least of all my _own_ son. A name should be… important. Say something. We must decide what we mean to say with his name first." Maukurz put his palm over Baby's head, smoothing the nursing little Uruk's crop of thick black hair. "He's so small," Maukurz laughed gently, amazed. "He's strong… it's just hard to believe one day he'll be grown."

"Thank you," Halla said quietly. "For going to her. I know that must have been hard. It's hard for me just to think of it."

He looked down, nodding, admitting, "I didn't go to her. I couldn't get to the door. I went to see Edwyn first, had him get her out."

"That was best, I think."

Maukurz's eyes were caught by Baby's hand, pressing against Halla's breast, the little grey fingers curling into Halla's soft skin. He smiled and said, "That Edwyn's not so bad. Not like I thought he'd be. None of you are."

"You thought we ate you," Halla reminded him, grinning.

"I thought you were like those Dunlending _urhbagu._ That means like, a bag of shit, you understand me?"

Halla shook her head playfully. "No, I most certainly _don't_ understand that."

"Because they're no more use than a bag of shit, and just as stinking. They claimed to serve the same thing as us, but they only served themselves. No loyalty. They didn't know how to fight together as a group. They gave up too easy. But you all are very brave. You, and Edwyn, and Ailith. You help more for each other than even some Uruk-hai would for their own kind. I thought, except for Rohan's better soldiers, all white-skins were like the Dunlendings."

Maukurz leaned forward, kissing her softly. "Then I found you—or you found me—and you are nothing like that, you are perfect. So I thought, you were perfect, everyone else was shit. Still, you are perfect, but I think your people—_those_ two at least—are good too. I don't want any more war with them."

Halla placed her hand against his face, smiling gently, glad. "Teach me something, Maukurz."

"Mm. _Halla kulat taar __ậ__mbal._ Halla is the most beautiful."

She repeated him quickly, grinning. "I like that one. Now one about you."

"About me…?" He looked down at Baby, asleep now. "_Brus l__ủ__k baalat madurz_. I have a free-born son."

Halla bit her lip, deeply happy for both of them. "_Brus… l__ủ__k…" _

_ "Baalat madurz,"_ he said, brushing a finger over her lips as she repeated him once more. "See? Easy, _taar __ậ__mbal._ I must go speak to the others now. And get some food cooking for you, right?"

Halla nodded. He kissed her again, then pulled the blanket up and tucked her into the warm furs with their baby.

The other Uruks greeted him with the same questions about Baby: was he well, was he growing bigger yet, as if they hadn't seen him moments earlier. Even Baiurz couldn't get his thoughts off the little one.

But Maukurz had something else on his mind: the comments Edwyn had made to him about the Dunlendings. Now that his son was safely born, and Halla out of danger, Maukurz felt more than ever that it was important to have revenge for Dagalur. Not so much because the Dunlendings would even connect it _to_ Dagalur's killing, but for the group, for the two Uruks he still felt that he led, and for Baby, who would one day be responsible to them as well, as they were responsible for him.

These thoughts also made him wonder: will there be more little ones? The idea froze him: he didn't want Halla so close to death, he didn't think himself able to put her there again. He wanted to talk to the white-skins again, Edwyn or even Ailith, to learn if there was any way it could be done better, easier for his woman. There would have to be some balance between the need for more of their kind, and Halla's ever-important health. Maukurz would _not_ take her for granted again, getting her pregnant so easily, as if there was some Power who'd ultimately be responsible for her breeding.

Now, however, was not the time for that problem. He squatted down near the Commander, who looked at him with narrow eyes and said, "I know that look. Thinkin' bout blood."

"Yes and no," Maukurz said.

"Explain."

Narzum and Shatauz, fletching arrows, looked up expectantly, a dark gleam in Narzum's eyes.

Maukurz frowned a little, trying to put it into words. "We have changed. The old rules mean nothing, they were the Master's rules. Since we're starting this new life… I think some things need to be said, and done. And one of the most important things is that we stick together, just like you always said, Commander. That means getting blood vengeance for Dagalur."

"Oooh yeah," Narzum said, sucking his breath over his teeth. "I'm with that, Captain. Been too long as it is."

"Quiet," Maukurz replied, holding up his hand. "I don't mean to say that we need to start a fight we can't win with those white-skins. I don't mean to endanger us by terrorizing them. We'll do it like I said last winter: creep after one when he's hunting."

"One each," Narzum amended.

Maukurz flashed him a dark glare of warning. "_One._ In payment for Dagalur's death. They got girls and babies too, even if they're filth to us. If we killed _two_, then we would owe _them_ a life. That is how I see it."

The Commander stared stonily at Maukurz. A slow, almost relieved smile began in his eyes, spreading to his lips. "I think you must do it. Just as you said, Maukurz. But be careful. Don't rush, don't take your Man until the time is right."

* * *

Ailith settled into her warm bath, taking a long, deep drink of brandy-spiked spiced ale. She set the cup on the floor, dipped her washcloth in the hot water, then ran it over her thigh—finally refusing to look away from the four long, deep scars running parallel over the side of her upper leg.

That was the work of the second Uruk. She could remember it with such horrific ease, how he'd grabbed her thighs, how her left leg had suddenly began to burn and sting, how suddenly there had been blood all over her. The violent theft of her virginity had been so blindingly painful she'd not fully understood what that second warrior had done until she awoke later, lying with the other survivors on the floor of her neighbor's barn, one of the only buildings that had somehow escaped the burning. It had been this wound that caused the healer the most concern, but fortunately it hadn't infected, no matter how badly Ailith wished for death at the time.

Nor had Maukurz's sharp bite on her chest infected. Halla's Uruk had stepped out of the ghastly red and black burning darkness of a devastated house, blood on his chest and mouth. He had grabbed Ailith by the hair as she ran past—a stupid mistake on her part, one that she would pay for forever. Halla's Uruk had gone first, in a manic rush as the Men of the village had rallied for one last doomed stand. The other two had heard Ailith's screams and joined him. They had stood guard, protecting him as they waited for their turn.

Even though she had seen now that there was more to Halla's Uruk than just vicious monstrosity—he loved, he hoped—Ailith would never be able to forgive him for what he'd done. Even though it had been… helpful… to see him on his knees before her, miserable and begging and apologizing… that memory was not powerful enough to cancel out the first. It was a great blessing that the other two who had raped her were not living with him.

But she was not bitter tonight, nor weeping at the memory. Tonight, Ailith examined her scars with as much detachment as she could, imagining, impossibly, that she was Harlan, seeing such devastation for the first time. If she married him, and he took her to his bed, would he see those scars and lose his nerve? Would the idea of following behind Uruks revolt him so much he would cast her out in the morning, shaming her once more? It was very possible. Ailith brushed her fingers over the long ridged scars, finally paling somewhat but still quite obvious. What was worse—the hideous injury they had caused her inside, which was now healed, or these lesser wounds which would last forever? Which was more likely to sour Harlan's affection for her?

Or… Was it possible he could overlook her scars?

Ailith draped the rag over the side of the tin tub. She cupped her hands with water, splashing her face clean. _I was strong enough,_ she thought, _to face him again. I was strong enough to help Halla give him his son, whether he deserved it or not, because it was the right thing to do. But am I strong enough to risk my heart, for the small chance that the Man I want to love might see some small worthy beauty behind such wanton destruction?_

Harlan was a good Man, kind and noble and serious-minded. _But am I asking too much of him? _

There was only one way to know for certain. Only one way that might spare her the utter humiliation of being tossed out like the contents of a night pot on the morning after her wedding.

Ailith stepped out of her bath, dressing a bit slower than was her custom. All her dresses save one—which was for the winter—were plain, as befitting a woman trying to make her own way in the world, unaccustomed to frivolity she could not afford. Most of her dresses were grey or brown. But she had one in a lighter shade of blue-grey, and she chose it along with the one thing she had of her mother's: one single pearl, from a far off land, that hung on a cord of black silk. She tied the cord around her throat, carefully combed and braided her hair, and bent to let her little puppy kiss her face. There was a slight tremble in her fingers as she opened her door.

Spring was in full bloom outside. Children ran laughing through the twilight. Maidens wore white flowers in their hair. Old people—the few that had survived the War—sat outside their simple homes, throwing bones and drinking ale and talking about days left long behind. Ailith walked along the road, under the growing starlight, at long last hearing calls of welcome and greeting from her neighbors. She thought that she finally had everything she wanted—almost.

Harlan was sitting on the steps of his new stone house, the house the neighbors had pronounced knowingly as too big for a widower. His long blond hair hung loose over his shoulders, his pale beard was cut close to his square jaw. He smiled warmly when he saw her, setting aside the wood he'd been whittling, and standing up. "Are you on your way to the tavern? I was thinking about getting a bite to eat myself…"

"No," Ailith said, coming to stand before him. Tears blurred her eyes suddenly, and she blinked them away, seeing the confused look on Harlan's tanned face. Looking into his bright blue eyes, Ailith couldn't find the words to say, and she suddenly felt faint and dizzy.

"Hey… easy…" Remembering how fearfully she'd reacted to his kiss, Harlan was wary about putting his arms around her again. But he was afraid she'd swoon if he didn't. He caught her carefully in his strong arms; to his surprise, she lay her head against his chest. "What is it, honey? What's wrong?"

"_Nothing,_" she whispered. Ailith laughed softly, realizing it was true. "Nothing at all is wrong."

He looked down on her, bewildered.

"I want you to take me inside now, Harlan." His eyes lit up with questions, and Ailith said, "You take me inside now, and you decide for yourself, if you can love me as I am. Because I don't want to wait anymore, wondering and wishing, crying because I'm afraid you can't. You take me inside, Harlan… and if you still love me afterwards, I will marry you, and give you children."

She could hear his heart pounding through his thin blue tunic. He looked around, into the road full of villagers. He might have swept her off her feet, but for all the neighbors. Harlan reached behind him and opened the door. He took Ailith's hand, kissed her trembling fingers briefly, and led her into his house.

Harlan's bedroom was modest but warm, smelling of the fresh rushes on the floor and lit by oil lamps. He drew Ailith into his arms before his narrow bed, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly. Ailith sighed at the touch of his lips, so soft and gentle, at such variance with the strength in his arms. "Shall I put out the lights?" he asked her, his voice a low murmur.

"No," Ailith said, taking a deep breath. She backed out of his arms, and with shaking hands undid the laces of her simple dress. The dress fell to the floor around her feet, and she kicked it softly away, then stood before Harlan, shaking now, unable to meet his gaze and see what thoughts were going through his mind as he saw her scarred body. A little sob escaped her throat as he stepped up to her again, bare-chested now.

"Shh," he whispered. "If you don't want this, I understand."

"I _do_," Ailith cried softly. "But you can see what they did—"

Harlan interrupted her by sweeping her off her feet easily. He carried Ailith to his bed, and lay her down carefully before discarding his pants and boots. She snatched a shaky breath as he crawled over her, eased his weight gently onto her body. She could feel the smoothness of his skin, the soft light hair of his chest. He smelled of soap and sawdust, and Ailith loved him completely.

"You are _beautiful_, Ailith," Harlan told her, lacing his fingers with hers. "And now you are my wife."

Ailith sighed, closing her eyes as Harlan took her body in his arms, and taught her how to love.


	37. Chapter 37

How good it felt to stalk two-legged game again.

And this time it was personal. The three younger Uruks dropped silently down the choppy, root-pitted hillside. At the bottom and a good quarter mile off, their quarry was checking traps alone. Each of them felt badly that Baiurz had remained behind then, remembering how the huge fanged springing trap—suspiciously of Isengard make—had mangled the Commander's foot. He might have wanted this kill.

All the same, this would be a shitty place to run. As much as they might have wanted to run and catch, someone could easily wind up just like the Commander. Maukurz reached back for his bow, and they slowly moved in closer.

* * *

They were definitely going to kill her, it was only a matter of when.

The stocks they had her in were a humiliating affair, splaying her uncomfortably forward, locking her hands near her face. The lock was a big bit of iron, easily picked if the Orcess had use of her pale, silvery hands. But of course, she had not the use of her hands.

_And why the fuck did I come this way?_

_Right, cause that little northern bastard said it was the safest way to freedom. I would use his skin for arm guards if I could get my hands on him._

Uliima couldn't see well in the daylight, and the forest canopy did little to help that. She didn't like the trees, either. She had spent the best part of her life under Lugburz, and when she went outside, it was on the black open plains of Gorgorath. But that was no place for an Orc today, what with the forces of the Elf-lover slaughtering folk. Warriors that made these dirty hairy reeking little Men look like rabbits. All in all, Uliima thought she was better off in their stocks than running from the knights of Gondor. The only thing wanting was a way out.

The Wild Men were keeping their distance from her, content to leave the Orcess they had ambushed in the stocks well away from their main camp. Still, Uliima could smell their roasting meats. She could hear the braying of their brats, the bickering of a group of women-folk, who while freer than Uliima had ever been did not tend their sprogs, rather leaving them to cry. Two Men loafed about nearby, posing as her guard but mostly telling lewd stories about their women, and sharing some hard drink. Uliima had already driven herself half-mad trying to work her hands out of the stocks, sure that if she did, she could take those two out, grab her bow and quiver, and have a nice head start before any others noticed. She had _not_ escaped pitching sundering earth, crashing towers, and rivers of fire to die at the hands of stinking ill-tempered hairy pink rabbits.

* * *

"Somethin' wrong, Cap? This your kill, you're barely touchin the meat." Shatauz, red faced, stopped tearing into the carcass of the Dunlending.

"Ate too much Mannish back at the cave, huh?" Narzum cackled.

"Watch yourself," Maukurz said. "I'm thinkin' 'bout Dagalur, that's all. Wonderin' where he's at, and wishing we could get him a taste. It's _his_ kill, really."

The two junior Uruks exchanged a glance. This was new territory. Short of demanding revenge and a few days thought, their life had been watching fellow warriors die, and a steady stream of new faces in the bullpens where they'd slept. It didn't do to get too serious about the death of a comrad, at least not in Isengard. And old habits died hard.

"Our girl-brother Halla ain't even the same _species_ as this bag of shit here," Shatauz said, preferring to respond to Narzum's joke rather than follow Maukurz's dark frighteningly abstract thinking. "Their females prolly all hairy too, don't you think?"

"No," Maukurz said. "They ain't. Terribly hairy, that is. Prolly some of our Ma's is Dunlending, seeing as they sold their own women up for breeders."

"Good cunny?" Narzum asked.

"Like you care," Shatauz said, rocking back on his heels, tossing a bit of intestine at Narzum. "I know what you want. That pretty face lad what's friends with Halla."

"_He_ wants _me,_ get it right," Narzum said, grinning, licking his bloody teeth smooth. "I can tell. You ever had one of their _Men_, big brother?"

"No," Maukurz said, and the other Uruk-hai went pop-eyed with shock. With one hard blow of his fist, Maukurz shattered the near-picked clean skull of the Dunlending trapper. His bloody hand scooped up a bit of the gelatinous grey substance inside, the part Master used to seem to stick his fingers in to give a good painful scramble if a fellow acted up in his presence. "Narzum, stay here and get rid of this mess, and what you can't, just make it so they don't _know_ for sure. Break the big bones and shit, scatter it around for the wolves. We don't want none of their folk findin' body parts. Shatauz, let's take a jog."

Shatauz stood up obediently. "Where we goin' Cap'n?"

"Gonna give Dagalur a taste."

"Now that's right proper creepy," Narzum huffed, getting down to the pleasurable work of total dismemberment. But he was glad that they left him alone to savor his revenge for the Uruk who had saved his life as Isengard drowned.

Shatauz followed Maukurz through the forest, wondering if his Captain had gone _dushatar_ on him; Maukurz _had_ spent much more time with Master. Soon thought he saw sunlight, and he recognized the clearing where they had found Dagalur's body. The stake was still there, but Dagalur's scent and remains were gone. _Probably picked clean by animals,_ Shatauz thought, _or taken for trophies by the Dunlendings._

Maukurz looked about warily at the clearing, taking a thorough sniff of the air. Satisfied that it was safe, he crept out into the bright sun, and then jogged to the stake. Shatauz, fingering his still-bloody homemade dagger, followed behind a moment later. Stopping before the stake, Maukurz ran his fingers over the dried black stains, all that was left of the brown Uruk. He didn't want to sit on the ground, and so he placed a bit of the meat on the ground before the stake, then gave some to Shatauz. "Here. Eat with old boy."

Shatauz understood immediately, and complied. He felt around in his belt, pulled out one of the small knifes he'd bent and broke and filed out of his canteen. "He can have this too," Shatauz said, putting it on the ground beside the bit of brains. "Nobody won't know who made it."

"Right. That's about it—" Maukurz froze. _I _felt_ it,_ he thought. Just as he was about to tell Shatauz to break out of the clearing, the scent of Man crept in.

Only it was female. And alone. "Fall back, quick," Maukurz gestured, a signal he might have used on a march.

But they stopped at the edge of the forest, slipping into shadow.

"Don't believe this shit," Shatauz whispered.

Maukurz couldn't either: it was the red-headed woman. She looked about cautiously, and Maukurz's heart began to bang. _It isn't possible she _saw _us, is it?_

His worst suspicions confirmed when the woman bent before the stake, taking a moment to study whatever it was on the ground.

"We're fucked," Shatauz said. "We should grab her. Don't think we have a choice _but_ to make sure she don't go home."

Maukurz nodded, shifting his weight uneasily. He didn't want to have to make the coming decision: kill her first, or let the other two get the white-skin fuck they hadn't had in well over a year. He knew what a Captain _ought _to do. Trouble was, he knew what Halla's lover should do as well. He knew what a fellow grateful to Ailith for saving Baby ought to do most of all.

The woman stood sharply, turning around, peering into the forest. "I know you're watching!"

"Oh, _shit,_" Shatauz breathed. Maukurz, smelling the sudden rise of the other Uruk's musk, chewed his lip irritably. "Shit, that's all but 'come get me', ain't it? Can I catch her?"

"Dumb fuck, you wanna be next on yonder spike? Might be a trap of some sort. Sit still and _shut up_."

"I know what happened to your friend!" she called.

Maukurz hissed between his teeth. "You wanna stay or come?"

"Rather have your back, if it's trouble," Shatauz said.

Maukurz nodded, and stepped back into the sun. The red-haired woman began to walk towards them. They could smell her fear, and it made them anxious: why would she approach them, if she was afraid of them? If she'd had no fear they might think her mad, but she obviously knew what danger she was in.

Yet there were no other Men about, and the woman was unarmed but for a little knife at her woven grass belt. Her red hair hung in two long braids, and she was quite thick and good-looking, but for a shiftiness in her eyes that reminded Maukurz of the looks of some of the smallest _snaga_ in Isengard, they ones who caught the worst beatings from Uruk-hai tired of being bossed about by creatures they saw as smaller and inferior.

Maukurz stomped up to her. "What happened to 'my friend'?" Maukurz demanded.

The woman swallowed fearfully with the two Uruks standing over her. But she looked quite clearly between their faces and said, "My man said he tried to rape me, but it wasn't the truth. He tried to _save_ me."

"Save you from what?" Maukurz asked.

The woman shrugged and looked down. "From my man. Sometimes—lots of the time—he hits on me. We was walking in the woods, me and him and his brats and brothers. As ever, the brats got into it. The boy's always picking on the girl. The girl and I were gathering walnuts and acorns and crab apples, and he kept knocking her basket to the ground. So I smacked him. My man don't like that. When he started beatin' on me, your friend came running out of the forest and attacked him. But his brothers were close behind, and they had bows. I wish he would have killed all three of them. He's almost killed me twice before."

Maukurz grimaced slightly. He'd played the whole thing wrong: if he had let Dagalur take the woman when she'd been near death, Dagalur would be alive. "He would have taken you with him," Maukurz told her, fishing quickly now. He wouldn't miss his chance again, to bring another woman into their group. But it was a deadly serious matter, deadly dangerous for their group, if he went about it wrong.

The woman nodded. "I'd have been better off, maybe. You might want to know, one of your people—well, not one of _your_ people, you're the Great Isengarders like my Da used to fight with—but an Orc lass got caught by some of our hunters yesterday. They're having fun watching her starve and burn in the stocks, but they'll kill her soon. We ain't friendly with you folk since we made treaty with Rohan, but I think it's shit. She didn't bother no one."

"So why don't you let her go?" Maukurz asked.

"Two Men's watchin' the keys. But they're far enough away from the village—not _so_ far, mind you, but far enough at night maybe—that anyone set on getting her free could do it."

"You trickin' me?" Maukurz asked, a soft malice in his voice as he looked the woman over for signs of deceit.

"I'll stay with one of you, if you like. The other can save her. Wish my man was doin' guard duty. But he ain't, more the pity. Still, you set that poor lass free, then once you get back safe, you let me go. A hostage, like."

Maukurz narrowed his eyes, wondering if she was in fact a touch mad. Not that it mattered overmuch, since most the breeders up in Isengard were full out insane after a while. "What if I don't let you go?" Maukurz asked. "You know too much already."

"Oh…" the woman said, turning her eyes to the ground. "Then maybe you could just make it quick, if you wanna kill me. I don't really mind. I don't wanna go back there, you see… I guess I been playin' in my head a little, coming here, remembering. Thinking he was gonna save me or something."

The Uruks were stunned into silence.

"My twin sister, see, she went up to Isengard. Da sold her near two years ago, right about when my man took me. When the war was over I saw her once, with some Uruk. Far as I know, they said they were going north. She was gonna have his baby, or some baby he was planning on claiming for his own, I never really got the full tale from her. And she… she was _happy._ If he'd have saved me, your boy, I'd have gone with him."

"Wanna come now?" Shatauz asked.

"What, with you?"

Shatauz grinned. "Yeah, with me. I won't knock you around. Gotta a girl there already for you to talk to, his girl. She's _happy_ too."

The woman looked around, and then a grin of wicked pleasure crossed her lips. "Right now, just like that?"

"Right now," Shatauz said.

"Slow down," Maukurz said. "You—" he looked at the woman. "You fucking with me, right? Trying to find out where we come from, all that?"

Her brown eyes went wide. "No! Not at all! You… you can't imagine how awful it is for me! I'd do _anything_ to get away! He killed my _daughter_ when she was just a babe. I'd do _anything_ to leave him."

"Even do like your sister," Maukurz said, and the woman nodded. "You listen, _sharlob_, if this is some fucked trick… If you make any trouble, I'll kill you myself, and it won't be _quick._"

"Come on now," Shatauz said, his eyes already greedily roaming over the woman. He stepped to her side, his tongue caught in his teeth as he slipped an arm around the woman's waist. "She ain't gonna make no trouble. What's your name?"

"Bregun," the woman said, feeling her flesh thrill a little as the Uruk gripped her hip.

Maukurz looked the two of them over, Shatauz and the plump red-haired woman. He had many questions about her, and he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing. _But we were going to kill her anyway,_ he thought. "Fine. We'll have to explain it, but you can take her. And we'll come back tonight, to help the Orc female if we can. But now we'd better go."

Shatauz wasn't even sure what to do. Throw her over his shoulder? Carry her like he'd seen Maukurz carrying Halla home? He'd never touched one who was standing still before, waiting for it. Bregun looked up at him boldly. Shatauz noticed the splash of freckles across her nose, and the lovely darkness of her black lashes.

In the end, he took her hand.


	38. Chapter 38

At the sound of Common Speech-and a female voice!-Halla was so astonished she tried to sit up. Her reward was immediate, stinging pain in her lower back. Baby, interrupted from his endless nursing and snuggling, squalled in complaint. Halla grit her jaw and blinked the blurry tears from her eyes. "Hush, little Luka," she crooned, settling back in her horizontal prison. Whatever this was about, she'd have to wait to be told.

An argument erupted in Black Speech almost immediately, a sound that even now could make Halla cringe. Lukmadurz, called for his rare free birth, widened his eyes in interest. Baiurz was roaring about something, and only her mate dared to brave his anger. Halla could hear Maukurz persuading, keeping his deep voice low and respectful, as befitting a subordinate. The Uruk-hai even in freedom could not shake their hierarchies, and would not know how to live without them.

"_Skai, flagitu!_ She is a trick, a betrayer! And she will not leave us now, no, not in body! But she will not stay!"

Horrified, Halla dug her fingers into her baby's fur blanket and cursed her immobility.

"I would not risk us, sir. If it's impossible, I will sneak away. As for Bregun, she should have her chance as Halla did."

"It's worth nothing to us! And _she_ is not worth the risk to all of us, your son included!"

"Commander," Maukurz said softly, "When Ghuribal came, I put my own dislike aside, because it is best if we stick together now, as much as we can. I believed you, and now I don't feel right sleeping comfortably while one of our kind is help captive."

"You're blood's runnin' hot and you long for another mission," Baiurz accused. "Don't dress it up in nothin' else. You all are _not going!_ The woman can stay with Shatauz for now. If I catch the scent of a scheme in her, she's finished. Now leave me to my meat. You all ate well enough, I take it?"

"Shatauz," Makurz said, and Halla heard the sound of something like a leather pack hitting the Commander's hands. "Your taste, sir."

Baiurz grunted. A moment later, Maukurz peered around the curtain, a cool smile on his lips.

Halla could only shake her head.

"I found a friend for you," he said, pausing for a moment to enjoy the sight of his woman and his son. The fur blanket had strayed down to her hips, her pale hair hung like a screen over her full breasts, save where his dark little son-plump and full of life-clung to Halla's chest. One dark little hand had taken a hard handful of Halla's soft hair. Commander had been wrong: his blood was not running hot at all, he was calmer than he'd ever been, and a haze of well-being had been settled on him for days. His only sorrow was that Halla suffered, but he was a hardened creature, and she wouldn't die. One day quite soon, Halla would be healed, and he would walk in the sun with his woman and his baby.

But she was upset now, near speechless. "Maukurz, what is going on? Missions, a woman for Shatauz? A risk to our _son?_"

Maukurz dropped to knees and fingers and crept to her bed, sitting beside her. His closeness always had the same effect on her: his body was a flawless work of hot iron. His hard face was framed by stray locks of thick black hair, slipped from the cord that bound it behind his neck. His slanted golden eyes, so foreign and so intimate, revealed all he felt for her. The idea of him in danger made her sick. "What have you all done?"

"Baiurz is-as you know-most cautious, _ashgaz_. You have nothing to fear. We'll watch Shatauz's new woman, and hopefully she'll work out."

"And-and if she doesn't?"

"She will, Halla. But it would be better if you helped her. Talked to her. She's... I don't think she meant it when she decided to come with us. I think she just wanted to get away."

"I don't understand you," Halla protested. "How did you come upon her at all?"

She was so worried! And so beautiful, breathless with emotion. Maukurz cupped Halla's face in his hand. His eyes strayed down to Luka, and he grinned. His son's green eyes were peering brightly sideways to Maukurz, but the little imp was too greedy to abandon Halla's breast. "Knows what's good for him, that one," Maukurz laughed. He leaned forward, kissing Halla softly, loving the way she tasted. He made a little face and asked, "You think I'm out there hunting women?"

"Of course not. But what I heard..."

"Don't worry about a thing. I'll let Bregun tell you her story."

"Bregun? What sort of name is that?"

Maukurz laughed against her lips. "That's part of the surprise."

Halla frowned, and then she guessed it. "She _isn't_..."

"Uh-huh. Should be fun. Too bad I have to let you two thrash it out alone. I'm gonna have a little talk with Shatauz."

"Is she kind? What sort of a woman is she? I cannot imagine..."

"She's the only kind of Mannish female I knew before you: the hurt sort, and a little shifty. Like I said, I get a feeling she don't know what she's gotten herself into, though that might not be it. I don't think she's _trouble._ But I do want her to mate with Shatauz, and have whelps, and be happy. So, you talk to her. Seeing you and Luka will comfort her. Especially after Baiurz threatening to do away with her."

"The poor woman must be scared to death! Yes, bring her, Maukurz. I'll speak with her."

Maukurz breathed Halla in, closing his eyes briefly. "Good. Thank you. I knew you'd help her. Just think," he whispered, "Luka will need companions. Best if she joins us in her heart, you understand me?"

Halla kissed his sharp, angular cheek softly. "I do," she told him. "But-this other thing. This mission?"

"Ah. Don't worry about that, either. Baiurz forbids it. I wanted to rescue an Orcess that Bregun says is captive in her camp, but he says it's not worth the risk."

"Well..." Halla sighed. "I hope she isn't trying to set you up. I can understand why Baiurz would worry! Yet... as much as I don't want you endangered, I don't like the idea that a female... any female... is held captive. Wouldn't another female be valuable to us as well? A mate for Baiurz or Narzum?"

Maukurz ran his hand over Luka's crop of tough black hair. "I doubt it. Uruk-hai were bred to want _sharlobu_ only. We might ... if none of your kind were around... play around with an Orc. I keep imagining a female Ghuribal: not to my taste at all. Narzum might be interested... but of course he's busy dreaming about Edwyn."

"Edwyn! My Edwyn! He would _never_ lie with an Uruk."

Maukurz hissed softly through his teeth, grinning. "Don't be so sure. I could have had him the first day I met him."

"You are a terror!" Halla cried. "And I _miss_ you."

"Painfully," he agreed. "But soon enough for that. Talk to Bregun now."

* * *

"You are a woman of Rohan!"

As soon as the young woman-shapely and full breasted with a shock of fox fur red hair-appeared around the curtain, her brown eyes flew wide. Halla laughed gently at her shock, for she shared it as well. "And you a Dunlending."

"But how is this possible? You are enemies!"

"Not anymore," Halla said firmly. "At least, not myself and this camp. Although the world outside this cave has not yet caught on to my sentiment."

"So they are not killers," Bregun sighed, more of a gasp. She dropped to the floor where she was, unconcerned it seemed for her simple hide dress on the dirt floor. She looked up at Halla, a fey light in her eyes. "I had thought to be dead by now, going off into the woods with three Uruk-hai. But here I am, and here you are... And a child?"

"My son, Luka," Halla said with quiet pride. The baby was sleeping now, cuddled against Halla's warm skin. She wrapped the fur up, remembering her modesty only then, though the Dunlending woman didn't seem to mind. "If you thought you'd be killed, why would you come at all?"

"You still love life, then," Bregun said darkly. "I would have welcomed death, without the courage to seek it myself. Now I see I will live, as my sister Sula did, with an Uruk. He says he won't beat me. Sula's Uruk carried her from the raging waters, and they were attached by breath. Have these half-Orcs somehow turned kinder than Men?"

Halla watched Bregun with an empathetic eye. "Some must be kind, and some must be rotten, and all in between. Once they left Isengard, they could become what they were meant to be free of the wizard's control. But Shatauz is kind, and quiet, and clever."

Bregun thought of this silently. She nodded, as if confirming something to herself. When she next looked to Halla, Halla indeed noted the shiftiness in her eyes, like a dog who'd been struck too many times. "The dark one with the gold eyes and Orcish face, that's yours," Bregun said, more of an observation. When Halla nodded, Bregun asked, "How did that come to pass? Sula was my twin, and our Da sold her to Isengard for a breeder. So she had one in her belly, natural for her to go with an Uruk who would want it. And I fear them, but you, I think, you should hate them. I know what they did to your kind."

Halla didn't hesitate to explain her feelings. "Most of my people do hate them. But I found Maukurz after the War, injured in the forest. I decided to care for him... until I could not stand to be away from him."

"In love?" Bregun asked, like a girl who'd never known it.

"Very much. But what about you? You've just met Shatauz. Will you share a bed with him tonight?"

Bregun could not meet Halla's eyes. "I s'pose that's the price, isn't it? To stay alive and be fed?"

"Dammit," Halla swore under her breath, wishing she wasn't stuck lying on her side, propped by rolled up furs. "Bregun, of _course _not. It's hoped for-greatly-but you're not a piece of meat. If Shatauz wants you, he has to win you."

Halla worried her lip a little, wishing Maukurz hadn't sprung this on her. What was he-and the others-thinking? This wouldn't end well, if Shatauz thought he could simply take a woman who didn't want him. But what else could this whole thing mean? Halla knew one thing, and it was frightening: Bregun couldn't leave. If she hated Shatauz, and he thought use her, she would have no choice but to endure it or fight it. Either way would bring trouble.

"Is that what he thinks?" Bregun asked knowingly, and Halla couldn't honestly respond.

* * *

Shatauz made himself scarce after his dressing down. Maukurz found him by a small seasonal river, chilled in the late spring air from melting snowpack. At Maukurz's footsteps in the mud, Shatauz lay down the elk bone he was knapping into arrows, and set the smooth rock at his side.

"What you down here for? Your girl's up top."

Shatauz grunted slightly.

"You can do better that that," Maukurz said. The more dominant Uruk had a tendency to invade the space of underlings and strangers, and now he stripped out of his buckskin trousers and stepped into the water where it pooled behind fallen rocks. Not waiting for an answer, he began to wash in the icy water.

Finally Shatauz grumbled, "I don't know what to do. I don't want to fuck it up. I want what _you _have. But I don't know how to do all that... all that touchin' and playing. I never went down to the pit. I know no more than what any fool did in the raids, and I'm pretty sure none of that goes on behind that curtain."

"Well I ain't fuckin' yuh, _pizurk_, no matter how nice you ask."

Despite his nail-chewing anxiety, Shatauz laughed. Maukurz grinned and let his hair down, washing out the traces of human blood. He stood again, ringing his hair out, then left the water, snapping his pants up from the ground and tugging them on. "Didn't get much of that after a fight, during the War."

"No, you'd have whipped us to shit! Stop and bathe!"

"I'd have been whipped right behind you, for allowing it."

They sat for a moment, both thinking back to Isengard. "I was always eager to get into the forges, not the breeding pits," Shatauz said. "Or the armory at least. Now I wish I'd tried harder to get at least a few days down with the breeders."

"_Nar, _Shatauz, that wouldn't do you much good with Bregun."

"How'd you get Halla, then?"

Maukurz shook his head helplessly. "I don't know how. She just came to me, and I was lucky enough to be busted up. I couldn't take her, but I wanted to. I didn't expect her to want back."

"Master said they wouldn't. The white-skinned women wouldn't want us, we had to take from them. But he made us to want them, bad as water or meat. Worse. And I didn't care, no one cared, that they screamed and fought. But now, you make me care. You and Halla. Now I want to be wanted, and I don't know how to make it happen. Don't know how to make her want to lie down, don't know how to make her glad she did once we're... you know. Fuckin' stupid, right? I should just have a go at her, and if she likes it she likes it. She can't leave, after all."

"No!" Maukurz said quickly. "You don't want to do anything like that. You want to learn about that woman, you want to take your time with her."

"Like you did, in the pits."

"Forget the pits. I wasn't even sure other creatures had _any _feelings when I was down there; at least, not feelings like I had them. Those women were just playing in my world. I didn't understand how wrong I had it until I saw Halla: as a person, as someone who I wanted to look at me and decide she wanted to stay. Master didn't teach that you'd crave that: not a captive, but an equal, someone who stayed by your side, and shared your bed, out of desire. I don't know if you can _fuck_, but I know you can treat her with the respect you ought to give the woman who'd have your whelps. You saw what that was like! Treat her as your equal, someone who deserves respect, and she'll come closer to you."

"And then...Once she does, I think I'll break her, you see? I've seen... I've done...hurt them bad before. Seen 'em broke."

"You won't break her," Maukurz said dryly. "Be careful. Control yourself. You ain't racing, or trying to eat her all up before the rest of the bullpen gets a sniff."

"And all that-that hot scent Halla has? Those... those sounds?"

A low growl rumbled from Maukurz's throat.

"I don't mean nothing by it, but I want it."

"I don't have a year to tell you how to get it," Maukurz said, fingering a smooth rock before skipping it down the swift water. "Look... just... _Enjoy _her. If she lets you. Slow. Taste her, watch her. And don't push her. You wouldn't believe me, but Halla slept the night with me before I ever really touched her. It was... maybe... it made things better for us later. If Bregun trusts you, she'll let you... How can I say it? She'll tell you her secrets. Her body will tell you its secrets. And _then... _Well, then you'll be happy."

Shatauz nodded, thinking it over. But a few moments later, they both heard footsteps.

Commander Baiurz had followed them down the trail. Shatauz held his breath. Maukurz was relieved to see that his step was strong once more, though there was a good deal more silver in his hair this spring. The creases in his face were deeper, giving the Commander a perpetually grim appearance. Maukurz and Shatauz stood up promptly.

"I've been giving it some thought," Baiurz barked gruffly. "You're right, Maukurz. And I don't think the girl is setting us up. I've listened to her talk, and while I have my doubts about her, I think she's telling the truth about the Orcess. So: if we can get close to the camp, if she can be snatched, we'll do it. But here's the thing: it'll be Narzum and me going down after her."

Maukurz opened his mouth to object, but Baiurz raised his hand and said, "You've got your whelp and your woman. Shatauz, you too, with any luck and some work on your part, you'll have a future as well."

"But you are our leader," Maukurz protested. "You're worth ten of us."

"If anything goes wrong, you'll do just fine in my place, Maukurz. You were a good Captain in the War, and since you've got yourself a woman, somehow you're growing up enough to survive peacetime. You'll do just fine. But I'm coming back! And it's been long enough since I've seen some action!"

Maukurz didn't dare object again. "Good huntin', sir."

Baiurz spun on his heel, marching back up the hill. Maukurz and Shatauz exchanged a wary glance.

"Don't s'pose there's a way to stop him," Shatauz said grimly.

"Even if we _could_," Maukurz replied, "It'd be like cutting his balls off."

"Then I sure hope he's still got it."


End file.
